Aspirations Forged Manipulations
by skigirl51
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy had a sister? What if she was a nice person who changed his views on Slytherins and magic in general? The world would change forever. Powerful! Harry, Grey! Harry, Dumbledore Bashing, Ron Bashing, Hermione bashing, Good Slytherins, Competent Ministry, and much more. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! IN PROGRESS
1. Lyra Malfoy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! Hope you like my newest fanfiction. It will be a Harry Lyra in the end, so I hope you enjoy the first chapter. It starts in the bookshop scene right after Harry gets away from Lockhart. I want to thank Jonathyn and Camille, by betas, for checking for grammar, spelling, and general content errors.**

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"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter," drawled Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Draco, _why_ are you yelling at some random people?" a girl's voice said.

Harry looked around in confusion, and noticed a pretty blonde girl come next to Malfoy. She had curly blonde hair the same color as Malfoy's, grey eyes, and black streaks in her hair. Matching grey eyes told him that they were somehow related.

"Who are you?" Ginny asked.

"Lyra Malfoy." she replied with a curve to her lips.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those."

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. The other Malfoy smacked her brother on the back of the head lightly.

"That was uncalled for." the girl Malfoy snapped. Harry mentally called her Lyra so he didn't mess her up with Malfoy. "What did they ever do to you?"

"That's Potter." Malfoy told her.

She rolled her eyes.

"Indeed. What about it? I'm a Malfoy, and those are Weasleys. Stop holding grudges Draco Malfoy."

"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley."

It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way. "Hello Lyra." he nodded.

"Father." she replied.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration .

"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower."

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; "Gentlemen, please - please!" cried the assistant, and then, louder than all-

"Break it up, there, gents, break it up-"

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools . He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and Lyra and swept from the shop. She gave Harry an apologetic look before sweeping away in a flurry of light blue robes.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter - bad blood, that's what it is - come on now - let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.

"A fine example to set for your children... brawling in public... what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought-"

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report - said it was all publicity-"

Harry gave a small laugh.

But it was a subdued group that headed back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry, the Weasleys, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. They said goodbye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry took off his glasses and put them safely in his pocket before helping himself to Floo Powder. It definitely wasn't his favorite way to travel.

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but his month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up on Privet Drive.

On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things, ending with a mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car.

Harry couldn't see how eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added.

"Not a word to Molly," he whispered to Harry as he opened the trunk and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.

When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Harry turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back. George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

"Molly, dear-"

"No , Arthur -"

"No one would see - this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser-"

Harry wondered at magic. An invisible flying car!

"I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight-"

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

Harry had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said to Harry.

Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and-

CRASH.

Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"

"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron.

"I dunno-"

Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.

"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself-"

Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds... nine seconds...

He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.

Three seconds... two seconds... one second...

"It's gone," said Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

Harry gave a hollow laughed. "The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years."

Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

"Can't hear a thing," he said tensely, "What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us."

They looked around. People were still watching them, mainly because of Hedwig's continuing screeches.

"I think we'd better go and wait by the car," said Harry. "We're attracting too much atten-

"Harry!" said Ron, his eyes gleaming. "The car!"

"What about it?"

"We can fly the car to Hogwarts!"

"Ron." Harry gave his best friend an odd look. "That's a very dumb idea, no offense. Do you even know how muggle cars work? It would run out of gas and we would crash somewhere."

"Well what other option do we have?" Ron scowled.

"We'll wait for your parents." Harry said. "They can't leave the car."

After about ten minutes Mr and Mrs Weasley appeared.

"Boys!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"We couldn't get through the barrier, mum." Ron told her.

"Well, we'll just have to apparate won't we." she said, fussing with their clothes.

"Now boys, hold onto us." Mr Weasley told them. "1-2-3!"

Harry felt a tugging sensation before he was whipped away. His vision spun before his eyes, and when he came to his surroundings, he found himself outside of Hogwarts on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"What was that?" Harry asked, trying to keep himself from retching up his food.

"Apparition. Nasty experience for beginners." Mr Weasley told him.

"Come on boys!" Mrs Weasley called, and they followed the adults through the castle gates into the castle.

"Ah, Molly." Headmaster Dumbledore greeted them with twinkling eyes. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Harry and Ron weren't able to get through the barrier, so we brought them here." she said. "Thank god they didn't try anything foolish like flying the car here."

Harry gave Ron a hidden grin and Ron grinned back.

"Well, I suppose you boys can stay for lunch and get yourselves settled in the common room." he told them.

Harry and Ron got to eat lunch at the Heads Table with Mr and Mrs Weasley. It was a disconcerting experience to be looking out at the Great Hall from above instead of looking up at the teachers. He was glad that he didn't have to be next to Snape though. Ron was, and Snape glared at him the entire time. Harry had the good luck of being next to Dumbledore.

"Headmaster." Harry asked. "Why is the Forbidden Forest forbidden?"

"It used to be called the Darkling Woods Harry, but after an incident involving your father, three of his friends, a tea party, a group of centaurs, Giant Spiders, and the Whomping Willow, it was forbidden. Of course that never stopped them, but it did help."

"My dad is the reason it's forbidden?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"Oh yes." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "He and his friends were called the Marauders, and were the worst pranksters to hit Hogwarts. They would give Mr and Mr Weasley a run for their money."

"What was their worst prank?" Harry asked curiously.

This was so cool! Maybe he could be like his dad and pull some pranks.

"I wish not to go into details, but it involved snakes, colored hair, and the teachers in very revealing muggle swimwear." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

Harry spewed pumpkin juice from his mouth at the image of Dumbledore in a Speedo.

"Come on." Harry laughed after lunch, as they trudged up to Gryffindor tower. "McGonagall told me the password. It's wattlebird."

"We get first pick at beds mate!" Ron said with vigour.

"I call the one near the window and away from the bathroom." Harry said immediately.

Everyone knew that at night, being near the bathroom or Seamus would mean death by stench. Ron grinned as they entered the common room, and set up their beds.

"Chess?" Ron asked him, and they set up to play chess.

As they played, the conversation turned to the incident in the bookshop.

"Can you believe Malfoy?" Ron asked as his knight took Harry's bishop. "Strutting in but a few words from his sister and he backs down. I bet she's just as bad as him."

"She didn't seem too bad." Harry said quietly.

Ron looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "She's a Malfoy Harry, and a Slytherin to boot! They're all bad!"

Harry stayed quiet and didn't argue, but the feeling in his gut told him that Ron was wrong. Soon it was time to go to the Great Hall. The boys stayed in a corner and joined the crowd of students entering so nobody noticed them.

"Where were you?" Hermione Granger, they're best friend, asked as soon as she found them.

Harry gave a grin at seeing her again.

"We got locked out of the platform so we were apparated here." Ron told her in a quiet voice. "Ate lunch with the teachers."

"Really?" Hermione asked, her brown eyes sparkling in fascination. "What was it like?"

"Amazing." Harry told her. "We were above the entire hall."

"They've started the sorting!" Hermione moaned. "Oh, we missed the song!"

"Forget that." Ron muttered.

Harry payed attention to only a few students. Luna Lovegood was put in Ravenclaw. Colin Creevy and Ginny Weasley in Gryffindor. Astoria Greengrass in Slytherin. Then, at the end of the Sorting Dumbledore stood up.

"Before we start our sumptuous feast, I have a last student to be sorted. She is a transfer students from Beauxbatons Academy for Magic. Please welcome Miss Lyra Malfoy!"

The pretty blonde entered the hall and sat on the stool. Harry saw her scan the hall with her grey eyes before they were blocked out by the hat. After a few minutes it called "SLYTHERIN!"

"Obviously." Ron muttered. "Where else would a Malfoy go?"

Harry stayed silent as she shot him a small smile and took a seat next to her brother. He saw Malfoy give her a smile, not a smirk or a mean grin, but a genuine smile. It was an abnormal expression to see on Malfoy's face.

"Let the feast, begin!" Dumbledore announced, and food piled up on the tables.

The mystery that was Lyra Malfoy flew from Harry's mind as he attacked the food with nearly as much vigour as Ron, albeit with more manners.

"Really, you boys eat like starved animals." Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"Now that our feasts are done, let us all remember that the Forbidden Forest is, as it's name implies, Forbidden." Harry gave a grin as he remembered his dad.

"Now pip pip! Off to bed!"

Harry went to bed and closed his hangings. As he lay in bed, he fell asleep to dreams of pranks, green lights, flying cars, giant spiders, and Malfoys.


	2. Luna Lovegoood

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me

 **Hey! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Some of the scenes come straight from the book, but I've done by best to change some things and add some things too. As always, thank jonathyn and Camille for editing. I found a really funny a fanfic called Like a Red-Headed Stepchild. You'll love it!**

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The next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said "Morning," which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-faced and accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever met.

"Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"It's mum!" Ron brightened up. "She says that Dad has fixed the car and it's invisibility booster, so she might be more open to using it."

But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.

Since he was already done eating he got up, and started wandering towards the Herbology area.

"Hello." said a girl's voice.

Harry looked around to see Lyra Malfoy sauntering next to him, her long hair pulled carelessly back into a ponytail.

"Malfoy." he said, trying not to sound to mean.

"Why do you dislike me so much?" she asked him, catching him off guard.

"Well- you see-" he stumbled over his words.

"It's because of my brother." she deduced.

Harry did his best not to gape. "How did you know?"

She sighed. "Hogwarts is different than Beauxbatons. Here blood purity matters much more. Besides, you'll find that Draco is a good person if you get to know him. He just acts rude because he doesn't want people to get close to him."

"Why are you so nice to me?" Harry asked.

She looked amused. "Why would I be mean?" she asked, before she swung her ponytail of hair over her shoulder and sauntered off.

Feeling thoroughly confused Harry quickened up to Herbology. Meeting up with Ron and Hermione, they left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Lockhart seemed to be talking about something while Sprout seemed to be ignoring him.

Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been telling Professor Sprout about my encounters with many exotic plants, and seeing if she needs help! I don't want you getting the idea that I know more about her of course!"

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He followed Ron and Hermione inside.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on ."

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

"Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything" (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "- and Ron Weasley. "

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic .

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family..."

After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.

By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Ron was having worse problems. He mispronounced the spell and thick grey smoke started coming out of his wand, causing him to accidentally squash his beetle.

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid - useless - thing-"

"You just need to pronounce it properly." Harry told him.

"I know mate!" Ron snapped.

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"Why , "demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously. Harry bit back a snigger.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.

"All right, Harry? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move ." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" - he looked imploringly at Harry - "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos , Potter?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.

"Jealous?" said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.

"Don't be mean Draco." his sister Lyra said idly next to him. Her nose was buried in a book instead. "Honestly, the way you go on and on about him at home I would think you have a crush on him. You sure you don't want a signed photo?"

Malfoy gave her a small scowl. "I'm fine Ly."

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

"Nobody." Harry said quickly.

They hurried off to his class, and Harry headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.

The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry.

"You could've fried an egg on your face" said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Harry Potter fan club"

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls , and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in-"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Harry looked down at his paper and read:

1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart s favorite color?

2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti . And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"

He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.

"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact" - he flipped her paper over - "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand. Harry rolled his eyes at her crush.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business-"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous , are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"My wand!" Ron bellowed as a pixie grabbed the wand, swinging it around before it hit the chandelier.

The piece of wood fell to the ground, cracked in the middle, held together by a few splinters of wood and unicorn hair. Harry winced; a wand was the most precious thing a wizard could have and his just broke.

"My wand." Ron moaned.

"You can buy a new one." Hermione reasoned.

"We can't!" Ron yelped, yanking his broken one away from a pixie. "Dad and Mum spent most of the money on books this year."

"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, " Peskipiksi Pesternomi! "

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, "Well, "I'll ask you tree to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"I'm out." Harry grumbled, stuffing his books in his bag and walking out. "If he's as good as his books say, he can do it himself."

"Harry!" Hermione scolded him reproachfully.

"What Mione?" Harry asked. "I don't like him."

"That doesn't mean you can abandon him."

"Well that's too bad." Harry retorted, sweeping away with Ron.

Hermione caught up with him after a moment.

"Guys, I have to go. I'm meeting some people later." he said.

"Can we come?" Ron asked.

"A private meeting." Harry gave him a pointed look.

"Oh." Ron replied. "Well, go."

Harry went to meet the Weasley Twins,

"To"

"What"

"Do"

"We"

"Owe"

"This"

"Pleasure?"

The Twins asked, alternating words.

"I want you to teach me how to prank people." Harry said.

The Twins raised their eyebrows. Harry sometimes wondered if they were one person instead of two.

"And what brought on"

"This change of mind?"

"Dumbledore told me a little about my parents. He said that my father was a prankster, and he and his friends called themselves the Marauders. Apparently they're the reason the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. He thinks that they could give you a run for your money."

The Twins were silent.

"Marauders you say?" they asked.

"One second." one said, and they rushed up to the dormitories, coming back with a blank piece of parchment.

"What's that?" he asked.

"This, youngling, is our secret to success." he said, giving his twin a wicked grin.

Harry looked at them like they were crazy. "It's a piece of parchment."

"Not just any piece of parchment." a twin said, an offended look on his face. "This is a map of Hogwarts, that details where everyone is, all the secret passages, and every way in and out of the school."

Harry gaped at the map. That thing was gold!

"But if you want to take it, you must pass a test. If you're truly the son of a marauder, the map will recognize you."

"Ok." Harry said uncertainly.

"Just wave you wand over the map and saw REVEAL!"

"REVEAL!" Harry said, waving his wand over the map.

To his amazement, words started forming on the parchment.

 _Mr Moony would like to know who is trying to access the map._

 _Mr Wormtail would like to know the same thing_

 _Mr Padfoot would like them to bugger off_

 _Mr Prongs says ditto to Mr Moony, if only to spite Mr Padfoot_

"Uh, my name is Harry James Potter." Harry told the map.

 _Mr Moony is shocked at your last name_

 _Mr Wormtail would like to know who your parents are_

 _Mr Padfoot can't believe anyone would have a child with Mr Prongs_

 _Mr Prongs is hoping that the mother of said child is the wonderful Lily Evans_

"My parents names were James and Lily Potter." he said.

 _Mr Moony believes that Hogwarts will now be besieged with pranks_

 _Mr Wormtail thinks that Mr Prongs finally got what he wanted_

 _Mr Padfoot would like to know if he was godfather_

 _Mr Prongs wants to know if he was a good parent_

"Um, I don't know who my godfather is. I don't know if you would have been a good parent either, because both my mum and dad died when I was one. I live with my aunt and uncle."

 _Mr Moony wants to let you in, and offers condolences_

 _Mr Wormtail can't believe that you're an orphan_

 _Mr Padfoot is sobbing._

 _Mr Prongs is also sobbing, but will grant you access to the map in the name of Prongslet_

Then the ink across the map spread to form a map.

"The password in general is 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'" one of the twins said.

"To close it, say 'Mischief Managed'"

"Wow." Harry said, staring at the map. "This is amazing."

"Excellent Harry!" one said. "Now, as a proper prankster you must learn our names. I'm Fred, this is George."

"No I'm Fred, you're George!"

"I thought you were Gred, and I Forge?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, who bloody cares?" Harry asked. "It won't matter anyway, I'm not sure you two even know you're true names."

"Right you are Harry. Now, for your first prank."

"Already?" Harry looked alarmed.

"Yes. We'll give you a simple task. Just turn people's hair different colors. It's a Colovaria Potion that you'll brew. Takes maybe half and hour. After, you go to the house elves and tell them to slip it in his drink."

"But everyone will think it was you." Harry said.

"Right you are, which is why we'll teach you a calling card. Once everyone has colored hair, you have to use a charm to leach some color out of all of their hair, though not all, and form it into words with another charm. We'll teach you those. What do you want your calling card to be?"

"The Marauders are Back, Second Generation." Harry told them with a grin.

"We like it." they grinned.

"You sure you don't want to keep Ron and Hermione in the loop?" one of them asked.

"No." Harry said. "Hermione would never let me, and Ron isn't able to keep secrets from her." Harry shook his head, giving a rueful grin.

"Well then. We Expect the prank by tomorrow." They told them, before they scampered off.

Tomorrow. That was a quick deadline. Harry could do this though. He could. He had to. After brewing the potion, a task made much easier without Snape over his shoulder, he used the charms Fred and George gave him.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." he murmured, watching as the map unfolded.

The Kitchens, where were the kitchens? Ah. He found them. Harry folded the map up and walked to the third floor, locating the picture of a bowl of fruit. Now what? Harry opened the map again and in front of the dot labelled Harry Potter, three words came floating in front of the painting.

 _Tickle the Pear_

Harry tickled the pear, and to his amazement a doorknob appeared. He took it and swung the painting open, stepping through. He looked around, and the first thing he saw were small people.

"Are you house elves?" Harry asked.

Most of them looked like Dobby, though with different colored eyes and neater uniforms. Dobby was a house elf he met earlier that summer.

"Harry Potter!" a house elf squeaked, shoving to the front. "Such an honor, and honor! I is being Tilly! I is head House Elf! Is Harry Potter wanting food?"

"How many of you are there?" Harry asked in awe.

"One hundred Harry Potter sir." Tilly squeaked.

"Please, don't call me sir." Harry told her. "Just Harry is fine."

"Harry Potter is a great wizard! He is treating us house elves like equals!" she squeaked.

"I like your uniforms." he told her.

"Hogwarts House Elves are proud of their uniforms Harry Potter! We is making them ourselves!"

"Would I be allowed to give you them?" he asked, remembering Dobby and clothes.

"Yes sir! Harry is not being our master so we may get clothes!"

Harry vowed to get them all shoes. Most of them were barefoot and he saw dirt and other muck in their feet.

"Well it was a pleasure to meet you Tilly. I had a favor I was hoping you could help me with?"

"Anything for Harry Potter!"

"I need you to put this potion in everyone's drinks tomorrow morning at breakfast." he said.

"You will have to talk to other house elves for this! I is bringing Twinky, Socks, and Mopsy!" she squeaked, before rushing off.

Harry thought that they looked cute, so small, rushing around to cook.

"Hello Twinky, Socks, and Mopsy." he said to two male and one female house elf. "My name's Harry!"

"You is being a kind master sir, treating us like equals!" Socks exclaimed.

Harry wondered if all house elves talked in exclamations.

"I need you to put this potion in everyone's drinks tomorrow." he said. "Not the teachers though."

"Mopsy will do as Harry Potter says."

"Thanks Mopsy. I'll try to get you some new fabric for clothes if this works out." he grinned.

"Harry Potter is kind and generous!" he squeaked. "Let Mopsy repay him!"

Harry left with a flagon of a drink called butterbeer, an entire chicken, a pie, and some apples. Harry decided to keep the food and share it with them later.

The next day Harry sat at breakfast, eager for how his prank would turn out. It would activate at 8:30, the time when most students were in the hall for breakfast. As today was a Saturday, it wouldn't affect the classes.

Fred and George waved at him from the other side of the table. He gave them large grins, and a thumbs up. At 8:30, the prank activated. People's hair were any color. Ron's hair was platinum blonde like Lyra and Malfoy's. Hermione had Weasley red hair. He noticed that Lyra had bright pink hair.

There were murmurs in the hall, and McGonagall looked accusingly at the Twins.

"Wasn't us!" they grinned. "Have you ever known us to do something less offensive than this?" they asked.

Then the smoke formed, a little color leaching out of everyone's hair. Harry's own hair, a bright green, turned a duller shade. The smoke formed the words of the calling card he wanted.

Harry looked at the teachers reactions. Professor McGonagall had pursed her lips and was shaking her head. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling at Harry. The man had to use a charm! Professor Snape, on the other hand, was glaring at him, and Harry had a feeling he was in trouble.

He was right. After he left the hall to go read or do something he was pulled by Snape into his classroom.

"You did it Potter." he hissed, his black eyes alight with fury. "I know you did."

"I didn't do anything." Harry told him, wrenching his arm out of Snape's grasp.

"Don't lie to me boy." he sneered. "The Marauders were your parents. All of Hogwarts teachers know that. Your father was one of them, and took particular pleasure in torturing me."

"He bullied you?" Harry asked, suddenly not wanting to hear about this side of his dad.

"Your father and his friends were nothing more than arrogant fools you took great pleasure in harming others." Snape sneered. "And you've turned out just like them."

Harry usually liked being compared to his father, but hearing that his father was a bully changed his view.

"I'm not a bully!" Harry exclaimed, drawing back. "I would never be like Dudley!"

"Who is Dudley? Someone you tormented?" Snape asked with a sneer.

Harry gave a short laugh. He couldn't believe Snape thought that. "Yeah right. More like my tormentor."

"As if I'm supposed to believe any harm came to precious pampered Potter."

Harry gave another short laugh before making to leave. "Professor?" he asked, looking back in the doorway. "My first Hogwarts letter was addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs."

And with that he left, not believing that he told Snape that.

* * *

Severus Snape was a man with set beliefs. He believed that Harry Potter was an arrogant bully who was pampered his entire life like James Potter. Yet Potter's words had set a curiosity in him. The Cupboard Under the Stairs? Surely he was exaggerating.

Yet Snape couldn't help but be curious. As a victim of child abuse himself by his father Tobias Snape, he knew the fear that one felt.

 _Just in Case_ he told himself as he went to check on the Hogwarts Directory for Hogwarts letters.

* * *

 **Harry couldn't believe he told Snape about his childhood. Now he would be blackmailed for sure. Oh gods, the entire school was going to think he was weak.**

"You look like you have something on your mind." said the voice of a girl he didn't know.

He turned around to see a Ravenclaw first year. She had long pale blonde hair. Instead of school clothes she wore a casual blue skirt and white top. Harry ran a hand through his green hair.

"It's nothing." he muttered.

"I know there's something wrong. The Nargles told me."

"What's a Nargle?" he asked, stopping to give her an odd look.

"They're floating creatures that are made from people's thoughts. They tell me what you're thinking."

Harry gave a sigh. "I told Professor Snape about my childhood, and it wasn't a nice thing. I'm afraid he'll use it against me."

The girl turned her silver eyes on him, before cocking her head to the side. "You were abused."

It was a statement, and Harry wondered how she found out. He stayed silent, and she gave him an inscrutable look.

"It's not something to be ashamed of. People won't think you weaker for it, they'll think you stronger."

"I still don't want people to know."

"Well if you want to talk just come to the Ravenclaw Common Room. You map will tell you where it is, and nobody will notice you while you are hidden under Death's Cloak."

"Wait!" Harry called at the odd girl.

He wasn't sure why, but he liked her bluntness. She spoke in riddles, and was willing to talk to him. "What's your name?"

"Luna Lovegood." she said serenely, before floating down the hall.


	3. Mrs Norris

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! Any Percy Jackson fanfiction you know that I can read? Also, I'll be deleting the Dark Heiress in a week because I just don't like it. It has too many typos for me. I'll think of reposting it. Anyway, R &R!**

* * *

Harry spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid was Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Harry's schedule. Nothing seemed to give Colin a bigger thrill than to say, "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hello, Colin," back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it.

Ron's wand was malfunctioning now that it was broken, and Ron didn't want to have to waste the sparse money his parents earned. Harry vowed to get him a new wand once the year was over. The worst malfunction surpassed itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Harry was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. Harry, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry groaned at his fanaticism. Half awake he rolled out of bed and stumbled onto the pitch, still buttoning his robes while his broom sat on his shoulder. While Oliver went over formations he slept in Fred's lap, while George leaned on Harry's shoulder and Fred slept on George.

"So," said Wood, at long last, jerking Harry from a wistful fantasy about what he could be eating for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"Can we go for a fly now?" Harry grumbled, stretching himself in a catlike manner with a yawn.

"Yes." Wood said after a while, and grabbing his Nimbus 2000 Harry sped out, taking to the air.

The feeling was glorious! Harry spun around before righting himself and hovering above the ground. The rest of the team took to the air.

"What the hell are the Slytherin's doing here?" Oliver asked while the rest of the team completed their warm up laps.

"You tell me." Alicia Spinnet snorted.

They all flew down and got off their brooms.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. Girls on the Slytherin team were very rare, though there was one last year.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker and Chaser'. "

"You've got a new Seeker? And Chaser?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy. Next to him was his sister Lyra Malfoy. She wore a feminine version of the Slytherin uniform, and her hair was pulled into a tight braid.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son? And daughter" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Why should that matter?" Lyra asked coldly.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors Noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives -" sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits. Then the silence was broken by Lyra.

"Look, I didn't join to fight with Gryffindors, I joined to fly. So can we work something out?"

Everyone looked at her oddly.

"What would you have us do?" Angelina asked. "We booked the pitch, but Flint wants it. Clearly it should be given to us."

"Share it." she replied with a roll of her eyes. "We can have an informal pickup game of Gryffindor v Slytherin."

"That's a good idea." Harry spoke up, trying to ignore the stares.

Lyra's large smile to him was worth it though.

"I'm willing." Oliver said cautiously.

"I am too. But we'll need a referee." Flint grunted.

"I know someone." Harry said.

Half an hour later they were floating in the air, while Luna Lovegood sat in the commentators stand. Word had caught the Hogwarts Gossip Express, and half the school was there now. Lee Jordan had joined Luna in the commentators box.

"HELLO, AND WELCOME TO THE FIRST HOGWARTS INFORMAL PICK UP GAME. TODAY WILL BE SLYTHERIN V GRYFFINDOR!" Lee yelled.

Cheers and boos sounded in the stands.

"Let the game begin!" Luna shouted, surprisingly loud for such a slip of a girl.

She released the balls from the box that Fred and George had taken from Madame Hooch's office, and immediately Katie Bell swerved forward, caught the Quaffle, and started flying. It had been agreed by both teams that they would use no formal plays, and that there would be no solid rules except for banning foul play.

Katie swerved, dodged the beaters, and swung around the hoops to toss the ball into the right hoop, dodging the Keeper.

"TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee yelled, as Luna marked it on a piece of paper.

"You'll notice that while Gryffindor relies heavily on teamwork tactics, Slytherin Chasers prefer to work alone. Sometimes Gryffindor needs to work alone, and sometimes Slytherin needs to work as a team. They should try it." Luna said dreamily.

Harry grinned at her, before flying up to look for the Snitch again. It was a sunny day, so he kept mistaking sun rays for the snitch. Slytherin and Gryffindor paused the game, and then resumed using different tactics. Lyra started passing more heavily to the Chasers, and Angelina started flying solo in the clouds. Both teams scored more goals.

The points racked up quickly, with dirty and quick plays being made against both Keepers. Soon the score was at a tie, 130 apiece. Then Harry saw it. A flutter near the Slytherin part of the stands. Immediately he zipped down, flying low to the area where they were. With a ripple of fear the Slytherins dodged out of the way, and Harry caught the Snitch in the nick of time, before flying up. Malfoy, on the other hand, didn't dodge up, and plowed straight into the stands.

Harry felt a moment of alarm for him.

"AND HARRY POTTER PERFORMS A PROFESSIONAL LEVEL WRONSKI FEINT! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

As the teams dismounted, Malfoy sported a heavily bleeding nose, Harry was the first to break the silence.

"This was fun. We all improved our teams. We should do it again."

Flint glared at them, before looking down. "I have contacts in Ravenclaw that could help."

"We know some Hufflepuffs." Alicia volunteered.

"Lee and I can commentate again." Luna told them in a floaty voice. "I had fun. It was like having friends."

"You do have friends." Harry told her earnestly. "I'm your friend."

And so was the beginning of the Informal Hogwarts pickup games. Two teams would simply book the pitch at the same time and play a game with no tactics or formations. Harry found out that the best seeker in the school was Cedric Diggory, and befriended the handsome fifth year after a Hufflepuff Gryffindor game.

The two had started going to the pitch weekly to have Seeker competitions with each other. Harry won 75% of the time, but Cedric was catching up.

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Harry was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.

Even aside from the rain and wind it hadn't been a happy practice session. As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "...don't fulfill their requirements... half an inch, if that..."

"Hello, Nick," said Harry.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Harry could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.

"You look troubled, young Potter," said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.

"So do you," said Harry.

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance... It's not as though I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently I don't fulfill requirements'-"

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

"Oh - yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.

"I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However -" Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously:

"We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away.

"Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."

Nearly Headless Nick took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, "So - what's bothering you? Anything I can do?"

"No," said Harry. "Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for our match against Sly-"

The rest of Harry's sentence was drowned out by a high-pitched mewling from somewhere near his ankles. He looked down and found himself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris, the skeletal gray cat who was used by the caretaker, Argus Filch, as a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students.

"You'd better get out of here, Harry," said Nick quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood - he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place-"

"Right," said Harry, backing away from the accusing stare of Mrs. Norris, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect him with his foul cat, Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to Harry's right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.

"Filth!" he shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Harry's Quidditch robes. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter!"

So Harry waved a gloomy good-bye to Nearly Headless Nick and followed Filch back downstairs, doubling the number of muddy footprints on the floor. Harry had never been inside Filch's office before; it was a place most students avoided. The room was dingy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp dangling from the low ceiling. A faint smell of fried fish lingered about the place. Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Harry could see that they contained details of every pupil Filch had ever punished. Fred and George Weasley had an entire drawer to themselves. A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Filch's desk. It was common knowledge that he was always begging Dumbledore to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling.

Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment.

"Dung," he muttered furiously, "great sizzling dragon bogies... frog brains... rat intestines... I've had enough of it... make an example... where's the form... yes..."

He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.

"Name... Harry Potter. Crime..."

"It was only a bit of mud!" said Harry.

"It's only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. " Crime... befouling the castle... suggested sentence..."

Dabbing at his streaming nose, Filch squinted unpleasantly at Harry who waited with bated breath for his sentence to fall.

But as Filch lowered his quill, there was a great BANG! on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.

"PEEVES!" Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. "I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"

And without a backward glance at Harry, Filch ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs. Norris streaking alongside him.

Peeves was the school poltergeist, a grinning, airborne menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. Harry didn't much like Peeves, but couldn't help feeling grateful for his timing. Hopefully, whatever Peeves had done (and it sounded as though he'd wrecked something very big this time) would distract Filch from Harry.

Thinking that he should probably wait for Filch to come back, Harry sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Filch wasn't on his way back, Harry picked up the envelope and read:

 _Kwikspell_

 _A Correspondence Course in Beginners Magic._

Intrigued, Harry flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:

 _Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork?_

 _There is an answer!_

 _Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!_

 _Madam Z. Nettles of Topsham writes:_

 _"I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the center of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!"_

 _Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury says:_

 _"My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course and I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!"_

Fascinated, Harry thumbed through the rest of the envelope's contents. Why on earth did Filch want a Kwikspell course? Did this mean he wasn't a proper wizard? Harry was just reading "Lesson One: Holding Your Wand (Some Useful Tips)" when shuffling footsteps outside told him Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Harry threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened.

Filch was looking triumphant.

"That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!" he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris. "We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet-"

His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Harry realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started.

Filch's pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you - did you read -?" he sputtered.

"No," Harry lied quickly.

Filch's knobbly hands were twisting together.

"If I thought you'd read my private -not that it's mine - for a friend - be that as it may - however-"

Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scarf didn't help.

"Very well - go - and don't breathe a word - not that - however, if you didn't read - go now, I have to write up Peeves Report - go-"

Amazed at his luck, Harry sped out of the office, up the corridor, and back upstairs. To escape from Filch's office without punishment was probably some kind of school record.

"Harry! Harry! Did it work?"

Nearly Headless Nick came gliding out of a classroom. Behind him, Harry could see the wreckage of a large black-and-gold cabinet that appeared to have been dropped from a great height.

"I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch's office," said Nick eagerly. "Thought it might distract him-"

"Was that you?" said Harry gratefully. "Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nick!"

They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nick, Harry noticed, was still holding Sir Patrick's rejection letter...

"I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt," Harry said. Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Harry walked right through him. He wished he hadn't; it was like stepping through an icy shower.

"But there is something you could do for me," said Nick excitedly. "Harry - would I be asking too much - but no, you wouldn't want-"

Harry immediately knew that he was being manipulated. Nick wanted something. Screw it, he wanted to know what.

"What is it?" said Harry. "Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday," said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.

"Oh," said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. "Right."

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend. Any of your friends would be most welcome, too, of course - but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?" He watched Harry on tenterhooks.

"No," said Harry quickly, "I'll come-"

"My dear boy! Harry Potter, at my deathday party! And -" he hesitated, looking excited "- do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?"

"Of - of course," said Harry.

Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.

"I don't know Harry, I really wanted to attend the feast." Hermione told him. "Last Halloween with the troll and all…"

"Yeah mate. Just tell Nick you forgot. He's a ghost anyway."

Harry gave them small nods before wandering off. He actually wanted to attend, see what it was like.

"Hello Harry Potter." Luna Lovegood stepped out from behind a corner.

"Hey Luna." he nodded.

"I would be honored to attend the deathday party with you, as would Lyra." she said.

Harry looked at her in surprise. How the hell did she know these things?

"The Nargles told me." she stated.

Harry provided the odd girl a grin. "Thanks Luna. It means a lot."

He headed off to the common room.

Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had "rescued" the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.

Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harry's mind.

By the time Halloween arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the deathday party. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

"A promise is a promise," Hermione reminded Harry bossily. "You said you'd go to the deathday party."

So at seven o'clock, Harry walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons. Luna met up with him a few floors later, and Lyra met them in the dungeons.

"Hello Harry." she told him.

Today her hair was loose.

"Hey Lyra." he replied.

"So a Deathday party?" she asked.

"Yeah. It's Nearly Headless Nick. He's the Gryffindor ghost."

The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him, he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Lyra whispered. Harry snickered. They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome... so pleased you could come..."

He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.

It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Shall we have a look around?" Harry suggested, wanting to warm up his feet.

"Careful not to walk through anyone," said Luna brightly, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.

"Oh, no," said Lyra, stopping abruptly. "Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle-"

"Who?" said Harry as they backtracked quickly.

"She haunts one of the toilets in the girl's bathroom on the first floor," said Lyra.

"She haunts a toilet?"

"Yes. It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you-"

"Myrtle just has a case of the pidwidgers. They make you feel sad." Luna stated, her bright blue eyes sparkling.

"Is that supposed to be food?" Harry asked in disgust/

On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words,

SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTON

DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492

Harry watched, amazed, as a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?" Harry asked him.

"Almost," said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.

"I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor," Lyra stated, scrunching up her nose.

They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them.

"Hello, Peeves," said Harry cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.

"Nibbles?" he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.

"No thanks," said Lyra.

"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," said Peeves, his eyes dancing. " Rude you was about poor Myrtle." He took a deep breath and was about to bellow something before Lyra slapped a hand over his mouth.

"If you do that I will get the Baron to ruin all your pranks." she hissed.

"And if I don't?" Peeves asked slyly.

"I'll talk to Fred and George about a pranking partnership." Harry brought up.

"Deal!" Peeves exclaimed, bouncing away.

The moment he was gone Lyra slumped down. "Thank Merlin!"

Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd.

"Enjoying yourselves?"

"Oh, yes," they lied.

"Not a bad turnout," said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent... It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra..."

The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, here we go," said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face and Lyra's elbow in his stomach.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder. Harry frowned. This didn't seem like a nice ghost.

"Welcome, Patrick," said Nick stiffly.

"Live uns!" said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Lyra, and Luna, and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

"Very amusing," said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

"Don't mind Nick!" shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. "Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow-"

"I think," said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, "Nick's very - frightening and - er-"

"Ha!" yelled Sir Patrick's head.

"Bet he asked you to say that!"

"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.

"My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow..."

But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

Harry was very cold by now, not to mention hungry.

"I can't stand much more of this," Lyra muttered, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.

"Let's go," Harry agreed.

They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.

"Sir Patrick wasn't a very nice ghost." Luna frowned.

And then Harry heard it.

"... rip... tear... kill..."

It was a cold murderous voice.

He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Harry, what're you -?"

"It's that voice again - shut up a minute-"

"... soo hungry... for so long..."

"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Luna and Lyra froze, watching him.

"I hear it now!" Luna said all of a sudden. "The Nargles just had to unblock my ears. That's a snake speaking to you Harry."

"You're a Parselmouth?" Lyra looked shocked.

"What's a Parselmouth?" Harry asked.

"You can speak to snakes." Luna said. "People view it as a dark skill."

"... kill... time to kill..."

The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away - moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?

"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Luna and Lyra clattering behind him.

"Harry, what're we-"

"SHH!"

Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "... I smell blood... I SMELL BLOOD!"

His stomach lurched-

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Luna and Lyra's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps - Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Lyra and Luna panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, what was that all about?" Lyra asked.

But Luna gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look! "

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"This is creepy." Lyra said.

As they edged nearer, Harry nearly slipped, barely catching himself. They inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"Harry we need to go, we need to go now." Lyra said, tugging at his hand.

"Why?" Harry asked.

But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Lyra, and Luna stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was a weedy Slytherin named Theodore Nott. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat. Nott was a short boy with messy brown hair and brown eyes. Harry saw Malfoy in the back of the crowd, looking at this sister worriedly.

What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted no doubt by Nott's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Harry suppressed a groan. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!"he screeched. " You ! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll-"

Harry backed away fearing for his life from the mad keeper.

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Luna, and Lyra and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Lovegood, Miss Malfoy."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free-"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Lyra, and Luna exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

Finally after a long meeting they went free, and Harry stumbled back to his common room.

"What the hell mate?" Ron asked as soon as he came in. "Where were you?"

"I went to the Deathday Party with Luna and Lyra." Harry told them.

"Lyra?" Hermione gave him a skeptical look. "She's a Malfoy Harry. She probably petrified the cat in the first place, and used some dark spell to make you forget about it."

"She wouldn't do that!" Harry argued.

"And Lovegood. You know they call her Loony right?" Ron brought up.

"Whatever." Harry grumbled. "I'm going to bed."

He couldn't believe his best friends would suggest something like that!

* * *

Neville was worried. He had seen Harry hanging out more and more with the female Malfoy, and everyone knew their family was dark. He had a particular loathing for them because they were related to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Harry." he tried talking to his friend before bed. "Are you sure she didn't do anything?"

Harry just glared at him. "Not you too Neville."

Neville was hurt. He thought they were friends, but Harry didn't even listen to him! Merlin, he should be used to it by now. Being overlooked and teased. It hurt. It really did, and now even Harry was doing it. He wanted it to stop.


	4. Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hi! I finally updated! Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly'' and "looking happy."

Harry had made up with Ron and Hermione by completely ignoring what they said about Lyra. They were his first friends, but not all Slytherins were bad. Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ron told her bracingly. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Ginny's lip trembled. "Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts," Ron assured her. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -" Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and Harry decided to go to Lyra.

"She's looking for information on the Chamber of Secrets." she told him.

"That's in a book?" Harry exclaimed.

"You really need to read more." she rolled her eyes. "Yes it's in Hogwarts a History. Everyone in the school is looking for one, including me. I can tell you what I know though."

"What?" Harry asked eagerly.

"It was opened 50 years ago, and a student named Myrtle Hornby was killed in a girls bathroom. Hagrid was expelled for that, because everyone thought it was him."

"Hagrid?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"I know." she rolled her eyes. "Stupidest accusation ever."

"I really need to read more." he muttered.

"Why don't you?" Lyra asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Well, Ron really doesn't like studying, he prefers chess or flying. He was my first friend so I really wanted him to like me, and Hermione doesn't like anyone doing better than her in class."

"You shouldn't change who you are for your friends." she told him sincerely. "You should study, and be the best version of yourself."

Harry gave her a grin. At least she'd still be friends with him, which made the option of studying a lot easier. She also gave him a grin before walking off. And that was how Harry found himself in the Common Room reading a Potions book.

"Mate you want to play chess?" Ron asked.

"No thanks." Harry replied.

"Why not?"

"I'm studying." Harry pointed out, holding his potions book up for emphasis.

"Mate, don't turn into a bloody bookworm like Hermione!"

"And what's wrong with wanted to get good grades Ron?" Hermione asked coolly. "I think it's good that Harry is studying."

Harry gave her a small grin. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Whatever mate." he grumbled, before turning around. "Hey Dean! Want to play chess?" he asked.

Harry realized just how behind he was in Potions compared to the rest of the school when reading this book. It was surprising how many potions tips were in the book. Harry devoured it, and finished a second potions book by the time he went to bed.

Finally they found out what the Chamber of Secrets was when Hermione questioned Professor Binns in the middle of History Class. Harry had to admire her courage.

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ron told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home..."

Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.

Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the hat on his head a year before : You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that...

But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin House's reputation for turning out Dark wizards, had thought desperately, Not Slytherin! and the hat had said, Oh, well, if you're sure... better be Gryffindor ...

What was he supposed to do?

"Trouble Harry Potter?" the airy voice of Luna Lovegood asked him as he wandered around the castle.

"The Nargles told you right?"

She gave him a smile, a genuine smile on her petite face. "Yes they did."

"I was supposed to be put in Slytherin. I don't know what Ron and Hermione would think of that."

"They would not accept you." she said immediately, staring at him with large blue eyes. "Ronald's Nargles are all Gryffindor minds, and Hermione Jean's are narrow minded. She would not accept it."

* * *

Sitting in his office, Dumbledore listened to the conversation between the Ravenclaw Lovegood and Harry. This simply would not do. He needed Harry closed off, ready to die when the time came. And Severus was worrying him too, asking questions into Harry's childhood and even visiting Privet Drive in disguise.

No no, it was best for everyone if he continued to believe that Harry was spoiled. It was for the Greater Good, after all.

* * *

"What the bloody hell?" Lyra demanded when they met up a few days later. "Your friends think that I'm the heir of Slytherin?"

"Yeah." Harry fidgeted. "They think that is why were found at the scene of the crime, and you used some dark spell to make me forget about it."

"That's a load of bullshit." she said bluntly.

Harry was impressed with her cursing.

"I know it is, but they don't think so. They're brewing Polyjuice right now to try and get you to tell them about it."

"Are you participating in it?" she asked suddenly, her eyes shining a dark silver.

'No." he told her firmly. "I told them that I didn't think it was you, but they think I've been bewitched. I had to go the Madame Pomfrey and get a deep cleaning." Lyra gave a wince. "It turns out that I had no curses except for a listening curse on me.."

"Who put the listening curse on you?" she asked all of a sudden.

"What?" Harry asked, thrown by her abruptness. "Well- er- I dunno."

"You need to be more careful." she looked him in the eye. "People can get good blackmail on you that way."

"Yeah." Harry muttered.

* * *

Severus Snape was a man who prided himself on his beliefs. He believed that Harry Potter was a spoiled brat. So when he showed up at the Dursley's residence he was shocked to find no trace of Harry Potter anywhere. Upon usage of Legilimency, he found that Harry Potter was an abused child, a role that he once played.

As a man who prided himself on control, he nearly blew off the fat lump Vernon's head when he was given pictures of Harry Potter crying in a cupboard under the stairs, bruises on his arms and stomach from Dudley and Vernon. Cooking, Cleaning, the list went on. There was no doubt about it: Harry Potter was treated worse than a house elf.

And Snape didn't know what to do. He eventually chose neutrality. He stopped picking on Potter, he chose Ron Weasley to be his new target. He had no doubt that this confused the boy, but he didn't care. Maybe he could salvage a relationship out of its ashes, for Lily's sake.

So he had reorganized the class. He had changed everyone's desk partners, trying to act like a proper teacher, though he still called students dunderheads and imbeciles. Potter was given a seat next to his god daughter Lyra. He sat Draco next to Goyle in hopes that there would be less explosions. Crabbe with Greengrass and Weasley with Nott would hopefully ensure that no explosions would happen, and he would put the clumsy Longbottom with Granger.

He noticed that Potter and Lyra didn't have a problem sitting next to each other, and that Potter's potion grades were actually improving. He was surprised, but he could see from Potter's suspicious glares and glances of Legilimency that he would have a talk with Potter.

He was proven right. After class was dismissed Potter stayed behind. "Why?" he demanded.

"I have realized that you are not an incompetent buffoon," Snape replied.

"How did you realize this?" Potter asked again.

"I visited Privet Drive." Potter paled drastically. "I realized that you aren't a pampered spoiled bully like your father."

"My father wasn't a bully!" he protested.

"He was. He would play childish and cruel pranks on me with his friends until they grew out of it, and I took it out on you. For that I apologize."

Potter looked like hell froze over. Professor Snape apologize to him? What the hell? If Severus wasn't in company of the boy he would have laughed; however, he kept a straight face and dismissed the Gryffindor.

* * *

Harry's life was going well. Apart from the rumours that Lyra had petrified Mrs Norris, nothing too bad was happening. His grades were improving in all his classes thanks to his studying, and he was on par with Hermione now. Potions with Lyra gave him excuses to hang out with her more, and Luna had also become a good friend of his.

The only classes that really sucked were DADA. Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.

Seeing that Ron and Hermione were staying after class, he lingered around to listen to them. What he heard shocked him. Were they really still on the idea that Lyra had opened the chamber? Merlin, it should have been obvious that she hadn't. But still, how much of an idiot was Lockhart to not even look at the book? Harry was just writing crap on his homework and reading Defense Books from the Library.

Spells and Curses had become his favorite thing to study since he was so good at them, and he was up until third year in terms of hexes, though in other classes he was still in Second. Potions he was getting better at, and he was actually starting to understand the subject. Before he would just throw things in the cauldron and mix, but now he saw how each ingredient played a role in the potion, and how all of them did certain things.

What he really wanted was someone to duel with. He knew all these spells, and could perform them on a wall, but he'd never actually tried them in a fight. But Harry pushed that all out of his mind and got ready for the first real game of the Quidditch Season.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -"("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August")"- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry" said Fred, winking at him.

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.

"Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible...

Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.

"Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero.

The Slytherins 'superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.

"We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry..."

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "`Get the Snitch or die trying,'what a stupid thing to tell him-"

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Lyra Malfoy was trying to get past Wood.

A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Akright?" Lyra asked him as she sped by, Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, looking for the Snitch, he saw it hovering near the male Malfoy's ear.

For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.

WHAM.

He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side - the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face - Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy.

Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.

"What the -" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way.

Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud he hit the mud and vaguely heard a crack. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.

"Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won."

And he fainted.

When Harry came to, he was in the hospital wing, lying on a bed with his arm flopping by his side.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"Oh, you're awake." Madame Pomfrey bustled in. "Gilderoy accidentally erased the bones in your arm when trying to heal them, and you were carried up here by some of your friends."

Harry rolled his eyes. Lockhart was an idiot. He looked to his bed stand, and saw a pile of gifts.

"From your admirers and friends." the nurse said.

Harry looked through it. Candy from the team, some cards, and a leafy green plant Harry could tell was from Neville. He looked through them, and saw a card from Lyra and Luna. He opened it.

 _Hello Harry,_

 _It's us. So, we thought we should be the ones to break the bad news to you. When you crashed onto the field, your Nimbus 2000 splintered, it broke in half. Even with repairing charms no one was able to fix it, including Dumbledore. THis is me Lyra: I'm really sorry about what happened, and if you have any idea who sabotaged the bludger, I'll help you get them._

 _-Lyra and Luna_

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back. His Nimbus 2000. His broom. One of his most treasured possessions next to his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map. And now it was gone. Splintered in half. He turned around and fell asleep, trying to distract himself from the pain in his heart.

* * *

"So what happened?" Lyra asked, sitting with Luna near a window.

"A crazy house elf has been stalking me. Apparently he thinks I'm in danger, so he thought I should get hurt enough to go home. He was stopping my mail this summer and got me in trouble with my aunt and uncle."

"What's his name?" Luna asked.

"Dobby."

At that, Lyra sat ramrod straight and still. "Did you say Dobby?" she asked slowly.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "Tiny, wears rags, with big green eyes."

"I know Dobby." Lyra snarled slowly. Harry was used to seeing her happy, but now she looked dangerous, her silver eyes like hardened pieces of steel.

"YOU DO?" Harry and Luna asked in unison.

"He's the Malfoy house elf. Let me go get Draco, and I'll get him to call Dobby. I don't have control over Dobby."

Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting in an empty classroom, and Malfoy and Harry were glaring at each other.

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Lyra rolled her eyes. "You two need to get over your little fight. How the hell did this even start?"

"Potter didn't shake my hand on the express. He chose Weasley." Malfoy sulked.

"Ron was my first friend!" Harry exclaimed. "You just came in and insulted him!"

Lyra looked at both of them incredulously. "You're both morons." she decided with a smirk.

"They're heads are crowded by Nargles." Luna told them. "To banish the Nargles, they have to apologize."

Harry looked at them incredulously again. Apologize to Malfoy? Never! But Lyra was staring at him so hard. Malfoy glared back at him, before softening his gaze. The steely glint in his eyes, hoever, showed that their fight was far from over.

"Sorry Potter." he muttered, sticking his hand out.

"Sorry Malfoy." Harry replied, shaking his hand.

"Good!" Lyra beamed. "Now call Dobby Draco."

"Dobby!" Malfoy barked, and in popped a tiny house elf.

One terrified gaze at his master, Lyra, and Harry had the house elf whimpering.

"Dobby I command you to speak freely." Malfoy said formally.

"What threat are you talking about?" Harry asked immediately. "You told me that there is a threat."

"It's the Chamber of Secrets it is sir!" Dobby told him. "Big Master planted a book from bad Lord Voldy to opens the Chamber he is! Big monster in chambers is killing mudbloods and blood traitors big Master says."

"Father told me just to stay to the side and do nothing." Malfoy murmured. "He planted an object belonging to the Dark Lord?"

"Bloody hell." Harry muttered, running a hand across his face.

"Do you know who he planted the object on?" Lyra asked.

"Dobby is not knowing Young Mistress."

"I'll be talking with father over Christmas." Lyra snarled. "God damn Chamber of Secrets."

"Thanks Dobby." Harry told him. "But please don't try to kill me again."

"Dobby won't." the house elf told him, nodding solemnly.

"So some object of the Dark Lord is opening the Chamber of Secrets and petrifying people." Lyra listed. "This object was placed in the school by our father, who intentionally put us in danger of being petrified."

"The Nargles are bright around Gryffindor Tower." Luna said dreamily.

Harry looked at her in understanding. "So the person he planted the diary on is in Gryffindor, and they are somehow being forced to open the Chamber."

"This is a mess." Malfoy groaned.

"We'll meet later." Harry said. "We have Quidditch Practice now."

"Oh, Harry?" Lyra called as he walked away, causing him to pause. "Don't tell anyone about this. Anyone in Gryffindor could be possessed, and if you tell even Ron, he might be the culprit, and you could be next."

And Harry walked off, deep in thought about the next prank he would play, and his target: Malfoy. He was thinking.


	5. Susan Bones

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Sorry for the long wait! I have a Science Quiz tomorrow so I've been studying, plus I found this new fanfic called Hogwarts Battle School that is amazing.**

* * *

Colin had been attacked the night before, when Harry was in the hospital wing. The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Filch first," Neville said, his round face fearful. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and Lyra were all staying for the break.

Harry knew that Ron and Hermione planned to use Polyjuice Potion to sneak on Lyra, and he saw Hermione steal some ingredients a few potion classes later when Harry was brewing a swelling draught. Harry thought it was kind of funny that Malfoy was hit, because that morning he had pranked the Slytherin, turning his robes Gryffindor red, and spelling them to say GRYFFINDOR RULES every few minutes.

Still, Lyra's furious face and concerned attitude after class made him take pity and remove the charms early. Harry was levitated into the air a while later by Malfoy, and had to pull himself down with Dean and Seamus's help.

That evening Harry hustled down to the Duelling Club, hopeful for the first meeting. He had lots of new spells he wanted to try out in a duel. His favorite was the stunning curse, and the whiplash curse. Harry took a spot next to Lyra, Ron, and Hermione.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not -" Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black. Lyra gave a derisive smirk to him.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Lyra and Malfoy gave snickers of amusement at the very idea of Lockhart hurting Snape. If anything Snape would hurt Lockhart.

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron muttered in Harry's ear.

Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three-"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Harry, Ron, Lyra, Malfoy, and most of the Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" said Harry and Ron together.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me-"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry moved to Lyra, who gave him a grin. Snape partnered Ron with Seamus and Hermione with a Slytherin named Millicent Bulstrode. Malfoy was put with a Slytherin named Blaise Zabini.

seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one ... two ... three-"

Harry immediately fired off a Disarming Charm, but Lyra shielded and sent a Rictumsempra back. Harry used the Whiplash Charm on her and used the time she was getting up to stop the tickling charm, barely shielding against her stunning spell and throwing three more of his own, before finally disarming her. She gave a large grin.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd.

"Stop! Stop!" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. "Finite Incantatem!" he shouted.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan..."

"Careful there, Miss Fawcett... Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,"

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you-"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Neville's round, pink face went pinker. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" said Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited-"

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron and Hermione cheering for him, while Lyra was cheering for Draco. Burn.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

But Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, " Serpensortia!"

A snake. Malfoy conjured a snake. Of course he didn't know about the Parseltongue thing, but still. Harry moved forward to tell it to get away, but one glare from Lyra had him backing away. He couldn't reveal that he was a Parselmouth.

Then the snake started advancing on Justin Flinch Fletchely. Damn.

Harry stepped forward. " _Stop_ " he hissed, continuing to walk. " _Come to me."_ the snake backed away from Justin, and before it could slither any further, vanished in a puff of smoke.

He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Lyra immediately came forward and taking his arm, yanked him away by his collar, with Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and Luna following. The moment they found a secluded room she rounded on him.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" she screeched, making everyone cower away. "I told you not to speak Parseltongue, yet you went and did that!"

"It was going to bite Justin. I told it to step away." Harry defended himself.

"Mate, we just saw you hissing to the snake." Ron said.

"AND YOU!" Lyra rounded on Malfoy. Harry was rather pleased to see fear in his eyes. "How dare you conjure a snake Draco? That spell isn't even in the books for our year, or the next!"

"Professor Snape gave it to me." he defended himself.

"Yes, and as his god daughter I will be talking to him." she snapped.

"It's alright. No harm came, but Sniggles will infest the school and make everyone think badly of you Harry. They target people with tragedy in their lives." Luna told them dreamily.

"Sniggles don't exist!" Hermione retorted furiously.

"Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they don't exist." Luna told her furiously.

"Hermione leave it. They are real." Harry told her shortly.

Hermione huffed, but stayed silent. Lyra rolled her eyes at Hermione. Eventually they all separated, not before Lyra could berate him three more times, and give him a worried hug, to which Harry was very amused.

Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered...

Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slytherin? He didn't know anything about his father's family, after all. The Dursleys had always forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives.

Was there a way to find out about his Wizarding Relatives? Harry decided to do some research. He wandered the library the next day until he found a heritage book.

 _Many people go through complex rituals to determine their bloodline, but the easiest way is to go to Gringotts Bank, located in Diagon Alley, and pay ten galleons for a blood test. Involving three drops of blood, which can also be mailed to Gringotts, the magical parchment made by goblins will turn the blood into ink listing your bloodline, name, family, and magical gifts._

Harry grinned. All he had to do now was send a letter to Gringotts with a few drops of blood, and he would find out if he was descended from Slytherin or not. Then, when walking away with the book, he saw a group of Hufflepuffs huddled over a table in deep conversation.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself he hangs out with that Slytherin witch Malfoy."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked."

"He always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.

"No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"

"I don't think it was him." a red head said firmly. "How could he be like the man who killed his parents? Plus he's always really nice, and to me it looked like Potter made the snake go away from Justin. I'm sorry, but I don't think it's Potter."

"I'm with Susan." said the blonde girl, Hannah. "Maybe I'll ask him."

"I'm glad some Hufflepuffs have sense." Harry said quietly, stepping out from behind the shelves.

Ernie's face paled drastically. "Thank you Susan, Hannah. I'm afraid I don't know your last names though."

"Susan Bones." the redhead said. "Hannah Abbot is my friend."

"You didn't open the Chamber did you?" Hannah asked.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I was on my way back from Sir Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost's Deathday Party with Lyra and Luna and we came across the corridor."

"See?" Susan pointed out.

"But you're a Parselmouth Potter." Ernie snapped.

"Yeah, but I don't know if I'm related to Slytherin or not. I'll be sending a blood test to the goblins to find out."

Harry turned around and walked out, blundering up the stairs and away.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid," Harry said, looking up.

Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"All righ', Harry?" he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"Canceled," said Harry, getting up. "What're you doing in here?"

Hagrid held up the limp rooster.

"Second one killed this term," he explained. "It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin Bugbear, an'I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snowflecked eyebrows. "You all right Harry?"

"It's nothing," he said. "Id better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

He walked off, his mind still full of what Ernie had said about him.

"Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born..."

Harry stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.

He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

Harry decided to run. He sprinted down the corridor, melting into a part of the wall that looked like a wall but actually showed a hidden corridor to the Gryffindor Common Room. Just in time too, because Peeves came zooming by screaming about the attack and McGonagall's Transfiguration Class came in too. Thank god Harry wasn't in the room, though MacMillan insisted was him, getting him a kick in the shin from Susan Bones, whom Harry was starting to like.

Soon it was Christmas, and Harry was happily hanging out with his friends in an empty castle not full of people who thought he was the heir to Slytherin. Christmas had come, and with it his blood test.

 _Name: Harry James Potter_

 _Age: 12_

 _Parents: James Charlus Potter and Lily Rose Potter_

 _Guardians: Petunia Anne Dursley and Vernon Brutus Dursley_

 _Magical Guardian: Albus Dumbledore_

 _Godparents: Sirius Orion Black(Imprisoned) and Alice Willow Longbottom( )_

 _Vaults:_

 _Potter Vault_

 _Potter Trust Vault_

 _Black_

 _Gryffindor_

 _Slytherin_

 _Ravenclaw_

 _Hufflepuff_

 _Merlin_

 _Emrys_

 _Pendragon_

 _LeFay_

 _Seats on the Wizengamot: 12( Proxy Albus too many middle names Dumbledore)_

Harry looked at the paper in disbelief. He never knew he was heir to so many houses! And heir to all four Hogwarts houses! Including Slytherin. This meant that Ernie was right. He moved onto his other presents. Malfoy got him a hair brush, to which Harry snorted. Finally he pulled out his last package, from Lyra.;

It was a broom. Long, thin, and white, white sleek bristles that went from white to black, and black lettering on the handle saying _Windstorm 50_. Harry had heard about this broom. It was super expensive, and only found in Russia. It was faster than the Nimbus series by a considerable amount, though double the price. Harry wasn't sure how Lyra got it for him.

"Wow." he whispered.

The broom was beautiful, and Lyra had gotten it just for him. He placed it delicately away and went down to the kitchens. The moment he entered he was bombarded with house elves thanking him in squeaky voices. As he said he would, he had ordered large amounts of cloth for all the house elves, and he noticed that they all wore different festive clothes.

"Harry Potter is a good wizard!" Tilly squeaked.

"It's nothing." Harry laughed, grabbing a croissant off at table.

"Hogwarts House elves must repay Harry Potter!" Muffy the House elf squeaked.

"I don't need anything." Harry told them. "Just keep making amazing food."

With that he left to find his friends. He found them in an empty classroom: Malfoy, Lyra, Luna, and surprisingly, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot.

"They believe you." Lyra explained. "I think they would be good allies and friends."

"Ok." Harry shrugged. "So, here's the blood test."

The others read it in silence.

"You're heir to Hogwarts?" Susan asked, her stare wide.

"Forget that!" Malfoy scoffed. "You're heir to bloody Merlin!"

"And Morgana." Hannah murmured.

"Yeah." Harry muttered. "I know."

"Harry this means you own Hogwarts." Lyra told him, her eyes wide.

Harry looked at her. "So, I could ask Hogwarts something?"

"Only in times of need." Susan said. "My auntie told me about it."

"Her aunt is Amelia Bones." Malfoy told him. "The Head of the DMLE."

Harry raised his eyebrow. The Bones were a powerful family, part of the Sacred 28, and one of the top magical families next to the Potters, Blacks, Malfoys, Longbottoms, and Greengrasses.

"That reminds me, Thanks for the broom Lyra!" Harry exclaimed.

Lyra grinned. "I wrote to father and he agreed that Dobby's actions were despicable. Dobby has in fact been fired, and is now working at Hogwarts. Father agreed to pay for the broom for his actions. Father also would like to apologize for giving the dark object to a student. He just wanted to get rid of it and forget everything that happened when his father forced him to take the Dark Mark under the Imperius Curse."

"So he was a death eater?" Susan asked.

"Not by choice." Malfoy said grimly.

"So the Imperius thing was true!" Harry exclaimed. "Ron always told me that the Imperius part was a lie."

"Weasley doesn't know anything." Malfoy sneered.

Harry stayed silent. "But this means that MacMillan was correct. I am heir to Slytherin."

"You're also heir to the other three Hogwarts houses." Hannah rolled her eyes. "Doesn't mean you're evil."

"Thanks." he said gratefully. "Now, let's go outside! Lyra got me a Windstorm 50!"

"Bloody hell!" Malfoy swore. "Even my broom won't go that fast."

"I know." Harry grinned.

"I'll need to add one last safety charm to it." Luna said dreamily once they were outside with the broom.

"What charm?" Susan asked.

"Quia fortis est scriptor petat pro crepitu formica." Luna chanted, waving her wand over the broom in complicated motions. "There! Now Wrackspurts won't distract you while you fly, and your broom has a less chance of shattering when hitting the ground."

"What did that charm mean?" Malfoy asked.

"Strong as an ant's butt fart."


	6. Ginny Weasley

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! My longest chapter yet, at 10,000 words! Like always thank Camille and Jonathyn for checking my horrid grammar, and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Harry looked closely at the black book he and Ron and picked up. It looked harmless. Lyra thought it was dangerous. Harry didn't think so, and something pulled him to pick it up. He opened it.

Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name "T M. Riddle" in smudged ink.

"T M Riddle has to be somewhere in the library." Lyra decided, before dragging him down to the library.

Finally they found him: he had won an award for special services to the school. Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the diary yet, instead ignoring it and concentrating on learning more spells. He had gone through many light spells, and had started on Grey Spells.

He had also moved away from Latin spells. He found that there were spells in other languages too, and one of his favorites were Dutch spells. They generally used less power and were more destructive, but they also had longer incantations and couldn't be used wandlessly.

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.

"The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time."

Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years...

Lyra, on the other hand, didn't think so. She thought the heir was laying low, waiting for the right moment to strike. Harry's Quidditch days were never better. The Windstorm had the admiration of the entire team, though Ron didn't like it since Lyra gave it to him. Harry loved the broom though, and kept it in a safe spot in his dorm near the window.

Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..."

He tapped his nose again and strode off. Harry had snorted.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon.

Ron pointed to the teacher's table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle twitching in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison. Harry decided that Lockhart belonged in a mental asylum.

"Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs caught up with Harry.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.

Hot all over at the thought of being given a valentine in front of a line of first years, Harry tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two paces.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to escape.

"Stay still!" grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling him back.

"Let me go!" Harry snarled, tugging.

With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.

Harry scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a holdup in the corridor.

Losing his head, Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.

"Right," he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. "Here is your singing valentine:

 _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

 _His hair is as dark as a blackboard,_

 _I wish he was mine,_

 _he's really divine,_

 _The hero who conquered the Dark Lord_

Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

Harry rolled his eyes, picked up his stuff, and stuffed them in his bag.

"Hey, look!" came a voice. "It's Potter's diary!"

Harry looked up to see Theodore Nott grinning meanly at him, holding up a black book.

"Give that back," said Harry quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" said Nott, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny Weasley was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.

Harry lost his temper. "Accio Book!" he said, using a fourth year charm Lyra told him to learn.

The book shot out of Nott's hand into his. With a satisfied smirk, he turned around and went to Charms.

It wasn't until they had reached Professor Flitwick's class that Harry noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He tried to point this out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his wand again; large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and he wasn't much interested in anything else. It was still malfunctioning after it broke.

That evening at dinner Harry received another valentine from a dwarf. This one however, had nothing to do with love.

 _Harry James Potter, HOW DARE YOU NOT GIVE ME A TURN ON THAT WINDSTORM YET? I bloody bought it for you, and you haven't let me try it out yet. For Merlin's sake, you let my brother try it out! If I don't get a flight in the next week I will hex you two ways to Sunday! Oh, Happy Valentines Day._

Harry just laughed at Lyra and her audacity. He would have to give her a ride on the Windstorm though. Harry went to bed before anyone else in his dormitory that night. This was partly because he didn't think he could stand Fred and George singing, "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad" one more time, and partly because he wanted to examine Riddle's diary again.

Harry sat on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time, ready to write his name, when he paused. Lyra always told him not to trust a thing if you couldn't see where it's brain was. But he wanted to know more.

"My name is Neville Longbottom." he wrote.

The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.

"Hello, Neville Longbottom. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

These words, too, faded away, but not before Harry had started to scribble back.

"Someone tried to flush it down a toilet."

He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.

"Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."

"What do you mean?" Harry scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.

`I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"That's where I am now," Harry wrote quickly. "I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"

His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.

"Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned."

Harry nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back.

"It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?"

"I can show you, if you like," came Riddle's reply. "You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."

Harry hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.

"Let me show you."

Harry paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.

OK

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.

When Harry came back from the memory he was trembling. Hagrid had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Trembling, the next morning, Harry rushed to the classroom that they always used to meet, and met up with Lyra, Malfoy, Luna, Susan, and Hannah.

After he told them the story, he was met with silence.

"There is no way Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets," Susan broke the silence.

"I know, but the diary said so," Harry said guiltily.

"Harry, what if the diary was the dark object my father was talking about?" Lyra asked quietly. "Even if he didn't hurt you, he could be gaining your trust and waiting for the right moment."

Harry thought about it and realized that Lyra was most likely correct.

"But it's still in my dormitory!" Harry realized.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Malfoy asked, staring at him like he was an idiot.

"It's no use," Luna said calmly. "The Nargles told me that it was taken away by the possessed one in fear."

Harry groaned. Luna was proven right like always: a Gryffindor had ransacked the dorm and taken the diary. He didn't know who, but it cemented the knowledge Dobby had gave them: that Lucius Malfoy had planted the diary on a Gryffindor, and that Gryffindor had ransacked the dorms for the diary.

The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Lyra, at least, took very seriously.

"...it could affect our whole future," she told Harry, Malfoy, Susan, and Hannah as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

"Definitely Care of Magical Creatures," Harry checked. "It looks so interesting in the books!"

"I reckon Divination won't be too bad," Malfoy stated thoughtfully. "Easy O."

"You're not getting an easy O in that class," Lyra scoffed at her brother.

Harry hid his grin as the two siblings started bickering again.

"Ancient Runes seems pretty cool," Hannah said, as she looked at an Ancient Runes book.

"In third year you're allowed to take three electives and narrow it down to two by fourth year."

"Nah," Harry shook his head. "I'm thinking of taking Ancient Runes. The last time I looked at an Arithmancy book I got a headache from all the numbers and symbols and predictions. I would flunk."

"So Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures for you," Lyra decided, having won her argument with Malfoy, who would now take Ancient Runes with Harry.

Eventually Susan chose Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. Hannah chose Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, because she had a little seer blood in her, though Luna said it wasn't enough after reading her aura though Nargles. Lyra picked Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, wanting to take the hardest courses Hogwarts had to offer.

Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought. Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.

Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. "Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast."

When Harry still made no move to eat at the table, Lyra had stalked over from the Slytherin table, piled food onto his plate, stuffed a fork in his hand, and after he ate, stalked out with him. Susan and Luna joined them. As they walked along to corridor to collect his Quidditch things Harry heard the voice of Slytherin's Monster.

"Kill this time... let me rip... tear..."

He froze. "It's there again!" he shouted.

Luna's eyes widened. "I think I know what it is!" she shouted, uncharacteristically loud for the small girl. "Come on Susan!"

Both girls raced off to the library, leaving a very confused Harry and Lyra behind. Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Winstorm Fifty, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game.

The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.

Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

Harry's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play - the cup - Gryffindor-"

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Harry went back to the common room, unaware of what was going on. The next day he was greeted in the halls by a tearful Hannah, whose blonde hair was dishevelled and was dragging Lyra and Malfoy with her. She brought them all to the infirmary, and there Harry saw them. Luna and Susan, their eyes open in fear, petrified on the beds.

"No," Lyra whispered, her voice desolate.

Harry spoke nothing, only stared at their bodies. In that year he had come to regard Susan and Luna as his sisters, and now they were petrified. He reached a hand out and smoothed Luna's curly hair back from her pale face. With a small sob, Lyra launched herself at Malfoy, who just held her.

Hagrid was arrested a day later. Harry and Ron took over the duty of taking care of Fang for him, but Harry knew why Hagrid was arrested. Because they thought he opened the Chamber of Secrets. That's why he was expelled. Dumbledore left a few days later.

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Harry; no better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.

Harry and Lyra had tried visiting Luna and Susan in the hospital wing, but visitors were now barred entry.

"We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told them severely through a crack in the infirmary door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off..."

With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

The Herbology class was very subdued; there were now two missing from their number, Justin and Susan.

Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Harry went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found himself face-to-face with Ernie Macmillan. Ernie took a deep breath and said, very formally, "I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Luna Lovegood and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well-"

He held out a pudgy hand, and Harry shook it.

Ernie and his friend Hannah came to work at the same Shrivelfig as Harry and Ron.

That night Harry spend his time sitting with Lyra and Malfoy in the classroom thinking of what they have missed.

"There has to be something," Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"I checked everything," Lyra groaned. "All that happened last time were a few petrifications and a girl named Myrtle was killed in a girls bathroom."

"Wait," Harry said, sitting up suddenly. "A girl's bathroom."

Lyra caught on. "You don't think-" she gasped.

"What am I missing?" Malfoy asked, looking between them.

"Moaning Myrtle," they chorused.

The three of them made a pact to visit the girls bathroom as soon as possible, but something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.

"Exams?" howled Seamus Finnigan. "We're still getting exams?"

There was a loud bang behind Harry as Neville Longbottom's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."

Studying hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Harry wasn't as worried about exams as he had been in previous years. He had studied a lot this year, and he was confident he could do well on the exams.

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" roared Wood excitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

Harry clapped his hands loudly and cheered. Luna and Susan were coming back! Harry knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up - and to his delight it did, midmorning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be 'It was Hagrid'.Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," said Harry, making Lyra drop her books in surprise.

"Thank you, Harry," said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night..."

"That's right," said Lyra, catching on. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go-"

"You know, Malfoy, I think I will," said Lockhart. "I really should go and prepare my next class-"

And he hurried off.

"Prepare his class," Lyra sneered after him. "Gone to curl his hair, more like."

They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag since he had started carrying it everywhere and just as he was getting into the cloak McGonagall walked by. He immediately dropped the fabric onto Lyra.

"What are you doing here Potter?" McGonagall asked severely.

"I- just- well, I wanted to see Luna!" he made up.

Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been... I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Lovegood. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

Harry let out a sigh and hurried off in the direction of the Hospital Wing, hoping that Lyra was following him.

"That was amazing storytelling," she grinned. "But now we really will go to the Hospital Wing."

"I've wanted to see them anyway," Harry shrugged.

They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Luna and Susan.

Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly.

"There's just no point talking to a Petrified person," she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Susan and Luna. It was plain that they didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

"Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?" said Lyra, looking sadly at Susan's rigid face. "Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know..."

But Harry wasn't looking at Susan's face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist.

Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Lyra.

"Go on and get it out," Lyra whispered, shifting her chair so that she blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey's view.

It was no easy task. After several tense minutes Harry managed to pull the paper from Susan's hands.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Lyra leaned close to read it, too.

 _"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."_

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Harry recognized as Susan's. It was large messy.

 _Pipes._

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.

"Lyra," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk - a giant serpent! That's why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue..."

Harry looked up at the beds around him.

"The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died - because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin... Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again. and Susan and Luna were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and-"

Lyra's jaw had dropped. "And Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection because Moaning Myrtle flooded the bathroom," she whispered.

He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

"...The crowing of the rooster... is fatal to it"! he read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it! It all fits! I've been seeing spiders scuttling away and out of the castle!"

"Pipes," Lyra breathed, pointing at the word Susan had scribbled. "The basilisk is travelling through the plumbing."

"The entrance!" Harry realized. "What if it's in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"

Lyra gazed at him in horror "That's it," she whispered.

They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.

"This means," said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

"What will we do?" Lyra asked.

"We'll wait," Harry said grimly. "Let's go to the staff room and get any information we can on the petrifications and then we'll search the bathroom."

They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Lyra paced around it, too excited to sit down.

But the bell to signal break never came.

Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified.

"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."

Harry wheeled around to stare at Lyra. "Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" said Lyra, aghast. "Go back to the dormitory?"

"No," said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers' cloaks. "In here. Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out."

They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginevra Weasley," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry heard nothing else. He heard nothing. It felt like his head had been submerged in waters. The teacher's voices were fuzzy. Ginny had been taken. Ginny. Ron's little sister, just a first year. She was innocent, and this would tear the innocence from her.

"Come on," Lyra muttered, pulling Harry from his thoughts.

He noticed that the teachers were gone, and that they were alone.

"She was taken," Harry said hoarsely.

"Innocents are always the first to suffer in war," Lyra said grimly.

"Come on," Harry sighed, getting up and pushing everything else out of his mind. "To the Girl's bathroom."

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw Harry. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," said Harry.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then -" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away..." She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" said Harry.

"Somewhere there," said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry and Lyra hurried to that area, looking around the sinks. It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.

" _Open_ ," Harry hissed in Parseltongue.

At once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

"I'm going in," Harry decided.

"Harry, you can't!" Lyra cried out.

"I have to," Harry said grimly. "Lyra, you stay here. If I don't come back in an hour contact the teachers."

And before she could protest more he jumped down. It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

With a groan of disgust at the slop covering him Harry muttered, "Scourgify" to clean himself and then, "Lumos" to light his way.

The tunnel he walked through was quiet as a grave, the only sound being Harry's footsteps as he stepped on animal bones. He saw a long and narrow thing up ahead and froze, sneaking up, only to see a basilisk skin that was about 40 feet. This meant that the basilisk now would be a good 60 feet. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor.

Harry swallowed and kept on walking, trying not to think about Lyra or Susan or Ginny or Ron or anyone. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

"Open," said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpent's parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?

He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, face down, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry shouted, rushing to her. "Don't be dead, please don't be dead," he muttered.

"Ginny, please wake up," Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"Tom - Tom Riddle?"

Riddle nodded.

"You opened the Chamber!" Harry accused. "You work for Voldemort!"

He knew that the diary belonged to the Dark Lord, so it only made sense that the boy in the book was the real person to open the chamber. Lyra had explained it to him.

"Lord Voldemort is my past, present, and future," Riddle hissed.

And using fire letters he wrote his name in the air, rearranging them to spell Lord Voldemort. Harry's heart dropped. He was facing Lord Voldemort.

"You see?" he whispered. "It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"What did you do to her?" Harry demanded, palming his wand into his hands.

"The diary," said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how -" Riddle's eyes glinted "- how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. 'No one's ever understood me like you, Tom... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket ...'"

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her..."

"What d'you mean?" said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on two mudbloods and two blood traitors, and the Squib's cat."

"No," Harry whispered.

"Yes," said Riddle, calmly. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries... far more interesting, they became... 'Dear Tom'," he recited, watching Harry's horrified face, "'I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and 1 don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me... There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!'"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms.

"It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet..."

"And why did you want to meet me?" said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust-"

"Hagrid's my friend," said Harry, his voice now shaking. "And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but-"

Riddle laughed his high laugh again.

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student... on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls... but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance... as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!

"Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed... Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did ..."

"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you," said Harry, his teeth gritted.

"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," said Harry triumphantly. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again-"

"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been - you."

Harry stared at him.

"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue ...

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her... She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last... I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"Like what?" Harry spat, fists still clenched.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that you - a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"As if I'd tell you," Harry sneered. "Then I would just give you more ammo to defeat me."

"So you aren't a fool," Riddle sneered back.

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix," said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes," Harry whispered. He had read about him. Fawkes was a phoenix connected to Hogwarts, and could only be called by someone with extreme loyalty to the school.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him..."

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed - but Harry understood what he was saying ...

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.

And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths. Harry knew that his best chance to defeat a basilisk was to blind it, so he scrambled onto the statue of Slytherin and pointed his wand at the entrance before closing his eyes.

He heard the thud of the snake landing on the ground and shouted, "Caecus!"

He heard a small shriek in Parseltongue, but he knew that his spell hadn't connected. Relying completely on his hearing he started shooting off cutting curses of the darker nature.

"Besnoeiing!" he shouted. "Gaudete! Verbreken! Llosgi!"

None of them had any effect. Harry decided to try projectiles, but before he could do more he heard a screech of agony from the basilisk. Harry opened his eyes to squint at what was going on.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and it's great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned - Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

"NO!" Harry heard Riddle screaming. "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM. KILL HIM!"

Encouraged, Harry used the summoning charm to break big pointy pieces of rock from the ground, and he banished them at the snake. One of them knocked two of it's fangs out, and the other jammed into its shoulder, but it didn't work.

Harry jumped off the statue as the basilisk bit where he was, zig zagging away and thinking of what to do.

 _The crow of a rooster is fatal to the basilisk._

A rooster! But how was Harry going to get a rooster? He hadn't learned conjuring yet. Letting off another projectile to distract the deadly serpent he wracked his brain for the incantation. Then he found it.

"Ayam konjure!" he bellowed, pushing his magic and envisioning a rooster in his mind.

It didn't work. Harry scrambled away, tripping on a puddle of water. He looked up at the green snake ready to strike above him, and thought about Ginny.

 _Ginny. Luna. Susan. They need me. I can do this!_

"AYAM KONJURE!" he bellowed, and a rooster came out of his wand.

One look at the basilisk and the rooster crowed "COCK A DOODLE DOO!"

With a shriek of agony the basilisk swayed and fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Harry wobbled to his feet, still staring at the carcass of the basilisk. Without a second thought he picked up the diary and jammed it onto one of the basilisk's fangs.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then-

He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.

Bloody hell. He had just killed a basilisk. Harry decided then and there that the best thing to do would be to pass out.

"Harry! Harry!" he heard a girl's voice shrieking above him.

Groggily he opened his eyes, and all he saw was fire. Wait, scratch that, it was hair. Ginny was leaning over him, her fire red hair enveloping her face as she shook him.

"You're alive!" she shrieked, launching herself at him with a sob. "I thought you were dead! I'm sorry sorry Harry!" she started crying. "It was Tom, he was controlling me and-"

"Shh," Harry soothed. "It's not your fault. You won't get in trouble."

"Come on," Harry soothed her. "Let's get out of here."

Without a backwards glance at the tunnel, Harry walked off with his wand and Ginny. After a few minutes' progress up the dark tunnel, the two of them reached the end of the tunnel.

"How will we get out?" Ginny asked quietly.

Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked uncertainly at him.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold..." said Ginny, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there-"

"Fawkes," said Harry, "isn't an ordinary bird." He turned quickly to the her. "Ginny take my hand."

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - the two of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Harry!" he heard the voice of Lyra shrieked before he was tackled by a hug.

Harry got out of her embrace to see Ginny backing away. With a grin he grabbed her and pulled her into the hug, much to her surprise.

* * *

Ginny was surprised to see Lyra Malfoy hugging Harry, and realized what had happened. She had opened the Chamber. She started backing away, but Harry pulled her into the hug. Ginny gave a small sob before hugging him back.

They drew away, and Ginny realized that it had been a Malfoy who saved her. Maybe they weren't as bad as Ron always put them.

"Thanks for saving me," Ginny smiled shyly.

"Now we go to McGonagall's office," Harry said.

They reached it, and Harry opened the door.


	7. Sirius Black

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey! Long time no see! So, I have a fever and my head hurts, but I need to update. Hope you like it, and thank Jonathyn and Camille for helping me.**

* * *

Harry looked around the Great Hall, grinning at everything. There were no more house tables, so Harry was sitting with Lyra, Malfoy, Ginny, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Hannah Abbott, Susan, and Luna, who had been unpetrified.

The exams were cancelled in light of recent events, and Gryffindor won the House Cup again. Harry was laughing the entire evening with his friends, and to his surprise so had Malfoy. After finding out about what Dobby did with the book, Dobby was fired from the Malfoy household. Harry, with some persuasion, had taken Dobby on as his elf.

He originally thought it was slavery, but then Hannah told him about how house elves needed the bond or they would die out, and how they actually liked serving. Dobby had been delighted, and had made himself a bright uniform out of leftover fabrics Harry had bought for the Hogwarts House Elves.

Harry had went to say goodbye to them and was greeted with more tears at treating them like equals, before being stuffed with enough food to feed him for a month in an enchanted basket. But Harry had one more request.

"Dobby?" he called to the house elf.

"Yes, sir?" the house elf squeaked, appearing in a flash of bright pink and green fabric.

"I was wondering if you could affect the wards on my house so I could do magic in there?"

"Dobby can do that, Harry Potter!" he told him. "Mr Dumby Dore is putting blood wards on Harry Potter's house, but Dobby is putting elf wards, he is!"

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry laughed at the exuberant house elf. Now, he would be able to do magic and scare his uncle and aunt!

Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Ron told a disgruntled Hermione). Apparently Lockhart had run away when being told to face the monster in the Chamber of Secrets.

Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry was squashed into a compartment with Lyra, Malfoy, Susan, Luna, Hannah, Dean, Seamus, and two of Malfoy's friends: Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Ron and Hermione would have joined them but they didn't want to be around Lyra and Malfoy, because of their surname. Ginny joined them after a while and stayed there. She had been through a traumatic experience in the chamber, and was happy to be around people who understood, even if they were Slytherins. They nearly mistook her for Susan before they got a closer look at her hair: Ginny's was flaming red while Susan's was a lighter strawberry red.

"Now you have a way to scare your aunt and uncle," Susan grinned at him wickedly.

"Yeah," Harry grinned broadly. "I think this will be an amazing summer."

And it was. The moment Harry got home we went up to his relatives and pulled out his wand.

"Here's the deal," Harry snapped. "I hate you, and you loathe me. I have gotten special permission to do magic outside of school." To demonstrate, he levitated the couch up and down. "You leave me alone. No bullying, and if Dudley touches me, I'll burn him. In exchange, I stay in my room and I'll cook for you."

The Dursley's were petrified, and agreed. With a grin Harry took this things to his room and called Dobby, asking the house elf to expand his room. Soon his bedroom was a large room with light yellow walls and a white fluffy carpet. His bed was a big 4 poster like at Hogwarts with red and gold furnishings, and his trunk next to his bed. Harry tacked some pictures of him and his friends onto the walls. The room had a study attached, with white walls and brown wood. A chair, desk, parchment, quills, and ink were in the room with his books. The room also had a big bathroom, with marble tiles and light blue walls.

Harry grinned. This would be perfect.

* * *

 _Hey Harry,_

 _How's your summer been? Muggles treating you well? Remember, if they ever threaten you tell me and I'll turn them into slugs. How's life been? I've enclosed some wonderful books on using Charms in a duel from the Malfoy Manor library, and I hope you enjoy them._

 _Love,_

 _Lyra_

 _Hello Potter,_

 _I'm not sure why I'm writing to you. I just attended the Quidditch match between Ireland and Lithuania- Ireland won. They have the best chasers in the entire league. Good luck with your Windstorm._

 _-Draco Malfoy, heir to the House of Malfoy_

 _Hey Draco,_

 _Why is your letter so bloody formal? Seriously? I've been spending my time lifting muggle weights to gain muscle and running around to gain speed. Most Quidditch training stuff, you know?_

 _-Harry_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _The Nargles tell me that you beat your relatives! How have you been? I enclosed a necklace to beat away the wrackspurts so that you don't get a cloudy mind. I also sent you some stones for ancient rune carving. It's an early birthday present because I will be in Sweden with daddy on your birthday._

 _Love,_

 _Luna._

 _Dear Harry,_

 _How has your summer been? My auntie Amelia wants to thank you for saving me from the basilisk, and says that the Wizengamot are in the process of prosecuting Dumbledore for it, though he will probably get off free since he didn't know where it was. How have you been? Has your summer been better with Dobby? Do reply._

 _Love,_

 _Susan_

 _Hey Susan,_

 _How's life? My summer's been pretty cool: All my homework is done and with the special wards I've been able to use magic easily. Has Luna sent you a wrackspurt necklace or earrings yet? She said she'd send them to everyone. Life has been good, and Headmaster Dumbledore will get off free._

 _-Harry_

 _Hey Harry,_

 _How's your summer been? I painted a picture of the gang for your birthday and sent it to everyone. Hope you like it._

 _-Dean_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _How has your summer been? Ron and the Twins say hi, but there's only one owl and I used mum's wand to hex them all, meaning I get to write the letter. I used the bat-bogey hex mum taught me. It's a Weasley woman hex. My summer's been amazing, but I've still been getting nightmares about the chamber. I love the books you sent me, and Dean sent me a copy of the painting too._

 _Love,_

 _Ginny_

Harry unfurled the painting. It was beautiful. The were on the Hogwarts grounds in autumn with the castle and the Black Lake in the background. Harry was in the middle, laughing, and his green eyes were bright. Lyra was next to him, her long blonde hair curled over her sparkling grey eyes. Luna, Susan, and Hannah sat around them, giggling to each other. Malfoy was in the background, with his famous smirk on. Dean and Seamus sat to the other side of the girls, laughing while Dean sketched something, and subtly holding hands. Hedwig, Lyra's owl Persephone, and Malfoy's owl Imperius were flying in the background. Susan's cat Bottleneck was purring in her lap.

With a large grin he tacked it onto the wall. It was beautiful. This summer was going amazing.

* * *

Harry scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realized what he was seeing.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside.

Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once - his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.

Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.

Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out - a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:

 _ **MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE**_

 _ **Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.**_

 _ **A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."**_

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend. Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.

Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy birthday!_

 _It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff._

 _I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me a new wand for next year._

Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when Ron had a run in with Crabbe and Goyle and they snapped his wand out of spite, though he managed to spellotape it together.

 _We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?_

 _Don't let the Muggles get you down!_

 _Try and come to London,_

 _Ron_

 _P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week._

Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.

 _Harry - this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup._

 _Bye - Ron_

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you're all right._

 _I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you - what if they'd opened it at customs? - but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world), Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous - the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating._

 _There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out, I hope it's not too long - it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for._

 _Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!_

 _Love from,_

 _Hermione_

 _P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ron doesn't seem too happy about it._

Harry laughed as he put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells - and it was. Harry already had read this book though, but set it aside. It would be nice to own it.

 _Hey Potter,_

 _I'm getting you a gift for some reason. I don't know why. I hope you like it. I have one for myself too._

 _-Draco Malfoy_

His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.

"Wow, Malfoy!" Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside.

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare.

Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world - highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly - as though it had jaws.

Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin.

Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.

And out fell - a book. Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered.

The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.

"Ouch!"

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.

Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday!_

 _Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you._

 _Hope the Muggles are treating you right._

 _All the best,_

 _Hagrid_

It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but he put Hagrid's card up next to Ron's and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock._

 _Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

 _A list of books for next year is enclosed._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Professor M. McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry called.

He grunted.

"I need you to sign this form." he said.

He grunted, and signed it, shoving it back to Harry. Harry smirked before sauntering back up and putting it in his trunk.

* * *

"Harry?" Petunia called to her nephew.

She had originally been all for dumping him in the orphanage, but the protection in the letter convinced him to keep him. She hated magic. She had wanted to go with her sister to a magic school but instead she stayed here, boring against her pretty magical sister. Then he came home with a freaky elf and threatened them with his magic.

"Boy?" she called, before entering the room.

She gaped. It had been expanded beautifully, and some amazing pictures were tacked on the wall of him and some freakish friends. She felt a little guilt, but pushed it away.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" he called, coming in from another room.

"Marge is coming tomorrow to stay for a week."

Harry groaned. Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister, and she hated him. Even though she was not a blood relative of Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), he had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all his life. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harry's mind.

At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. On her last visit, the year before Harry started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.

The next day, when Harry was getting ready he received a barrage of owls, all of them scribbled and rushed.

 _Harry stay at the house_

 _-Lyra_

 _Harry you're in danger. Please, stay safe._

 _-Draco_

 _Harry I'm talking to my Auntie Amelia and she's considering getting you an Auror patrol for safety_

 _-Susan_

 _Harry, don't get hurt at all._

 _-Hannah_

 _Harry,_

 _I'm pretty sure everyone else hasn't told you anything, so I will. Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban, and he's the person who betrayed your parents. Let me go back to the story my parents told me. Your parents went under hiding with you under the Fidelius Charm, a charm that allows no one but the secret keeper to know where you're hiding. Sirius Black was your parents secret keeper, and he gave the secret to You Know Who. He ran, and Peter Pettigrew confronted him. Sirius Black killed Pettigrew and 13 muggles, before being sent to Azkaban. They say he escaped to come after you and finish what his master started: kill you._

 _Hopefully this wasn't too long an explanation._

 _Love,_

 _Ginny_

 _PS. Fred and George tell you that their developing some amazing prank items_

Harry sat down on his bed and clutched his head in his hands. Sirius Black was the reason his parents were dead. The reason he was forced to stay with the Dursleys. He'd kill him. Harry knew that in his gut.

 _Dear Lyra,_

 _On that note I'm leaving my house. I know that Sirius Black is around but my muggle house is too easy to find, plus my horrid aunt is coming over. I'll stay in the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of summer. Please send these to everyone else once you've read it._

 _-Harry_

Harry looked around his room in Diagon Alley. Thank god he left before Aunt Marge came, or he probably would have lost his temper.

"Thanks Tom." he said as Tom brought up a plate of steaming food that he scarfed down.

The Knight bus had made him really hungry. Hannah had told him about it, and he regretted ever taking it. After he was knocked around the bus for a few hours he finally got away.

The next morning Harry came down and got a nice breakfast from Tom, thanking him. Harry pulled open his new Daily Prophet Subscription, and started reading.

 _BLACK STILL AT LARGE_

 _Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

 _"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

 _Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

 _"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it - who'd believe him if he did?"_

 _While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse._

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.

"Hmm," he hummed, before finishing his tea and getting ready to go out.

Harry had a lot of things he needed to replace. First came his trunk. He went to Tara's Trunks in Diagon Alley.

"Hello?" he called into the empty shop.

A big woman came out in a pair of large purple robes, big gold hoops in her ears and her face tanned.

"Hello!" she said cheerily. "I'm Tara! What trunk do you want today?"

"I'm here for a custom trunk," Harry told her.

Her grin widened at the prospect of money.

"What type?"

"I want it black with gold metal edges and my initials HJP on it in gold. I need a compartment for clothes, a built in library, and some miscellaneous storage pockets, including one for a broom."

"That'll round out to about 200 galleons." she told him after a few calculations. "Your trunk will be ready by the end of the day."

Harry thanked her before going to Ollivanders. Lyra had sent him a wand holster for his birthday from Knockturn Alley, but he needed it attuned to his magic and wand first.

"Hello?" Harry called, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling.

"Mr Potter," Ollivander stated, staring at him creepily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need to be attuned to his," Harry said, holding out his black dragonhide wand holster.

With a creepy stare Ollivander abruptly snatched it from his hands and went over to his table, exposing the green gem that rested at the bottom of the holster. Without warning he swooped out with a silver knife and took a few drops of blood from Harry's palm, dripping them onto the gem.

"Et talem alliges duplicia," he murmured, and the gem glowed red for a few seconds before returning to it's bright green.

"That'll be 2 galleons," Ollivander said smoothly, and Harry forked the money over.

Next was clothes. Harry knew his wardrobe sucked: he only had Dudley's hand me downs. Now he needed proper clothes. Two hours of Madame Malkin's later and he had an entire wardrobe of shirts, pants, underwear, socks, robes, and robe cuffs.

Deciding to go for lunch, Harry went back to the Leaky Cauldron, and stopped by Florean Fortescue's for a free sundae from the amazing man. After he went to Flourish and Blotts for some more books. Books on Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Duelling, Runes, more duelling, Magical Etiquette, the Wizengamot, and some more duelling.

Harry then went to the trunk shop and picked up his new trunk, made of Hebridean Black Dragon Skin with gold edges. Grinning back in his room, Harry stuffed his new books, clothes, and belongings in. He kept a special pocket for his prank supplies from Zonkos, his cloak, and the map.

Harry spent the rest of the summer having fun. He regularly took flights around Diagon Alley on his Windstorm, and was working on a way to fashion his Invisibility Blanket into an actual cloak. It involved stitching though, something Harry didn't know how to do, so he was researching household charms instead.

But the one thing that tested his resolve on not to spend too much money was a broom. Harry edged his way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until he glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom he had ever seen in his life.

"Just come out - prototype -" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Harry moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the broom:

** THE FIREBOLT **

THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAMLINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

Price on request...Harry didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life - but he already had a good Windstorm 50 Harry didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.

Harry still had to buy school supplies though. He went to the apothecary and bought himself more potion supplies now that potions was a tolerable class: Snape chose to ignore him instead of pick on him. He bought a wonderful chess set with black marble pieces and sapphire eyes to give to Ron.

He had also went and gotten all the Standard Books of Spells. As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of his friends. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother.

"Harry!" he heard a squeal, and before he could react he was in a hug from Lyra.

"Hey Harry," Draco smirked.

Harry grinned. Both of them had ended the fight the moment Sirius Black escaped.

"Hey Draco," he smiled.

"Mr Potter," Lucius Malfoy said emotionlessly, nodding his head.

"Hello Harry," Narcissa Malfoy gave a much warmer welcome. "Draco and Lyra talk about you all the time."

"Mrs Malfoy," Harry nodded his head in her direction.

"Did you get your school supplies?" Lyra asked.

"Yeah," Harry responded.

"Well we're gonna go get ours," she said. "Daphne's little sister Astoria is starting this year."

"Bye!" Harry waved, before sauntering off.

He found Ron and Hermione in a pet shop. There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.

Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er -" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers' tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these -"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much - OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?"

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry.

"Where's Hermione?"

"Probably getting her owl."

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

That was a matter of opinion, thought Harry. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry personally thought that Bottleneck would love Crookshanks.

They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

Ginny gave him a large grin that Harry returned: the two had bonded over the Chamber of Secrets incident. Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks -"

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy -"

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you -"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled. Harry chuckled with her. He couldn't wait to show the Twins his new prank products. Apparently the Marauders were some of their best customers so Zonkos gave him a free look into their new products.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Gunny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner..."

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us."

Harry laughed. "Guess what?" he asked. "Zonkos gave me a free look into their new products that aren't out yet because the Marauders were their best customers."

"Lucky boy." Fred groaned.

Harry smirked, and handed them a pouch of Dungbombs that had time delays on them so no one would know who set them off. Dinner that night was amazing. Harry hung out with them the rest of the day, though he said bye to Lyra before she left for her house. Everyone had piled their tables together and were eating. Harry was in a discussion with the Twins and Ginny on their first prank at Hogwarts. It involved changing the Sorting Hat's song into a muggle song. Ron and Hermione were bickering over Scabbers and Crookshanks.

The next day, among complete chaos all the Weasleys and Hermione piled into Ministry cars and started off to Kings Cross Station. Harry had Dobby apparate him there early with his trunk shrunk in his pocket, and Hedwig on his shoulder.

Since Harry was there early he got himself a nice carriage that Dobby insisted on expanding. Harry smiled at the eagar house elf. Dobby was more of a friend at this point. As time went on others joined. By the time the train started Lyra, Draco, Luna, Susan, Hannah, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Fred, George, Blaise, and Daphne were all piled into the compartment. Luna's Vanishing Cat, Cheshire, which reminded Harry of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland kept scaring Bottleneck, and Hedwig was pecking at Imperius. Overall, it was chaos.

Ron and Hermione would have joined but they didn't want to sit with Slytherins.

"Sirius Black," Lyra said all of a sudden, dousing the mood. "Harry has to travel with someone at all times."

"With Dungbombs," Fred chimed in.

"And the Map," Ginny said.

"And his cloak," Susan said.

"Auntie said that they're assigning dementors to guard Hogwarts," Susan said softly, leaning back as Hannah braided her hair.

"Idiots," Ginny hissed.

"What are dementors?" Harry asked. He hadn't gotten around to reading his magical creature books yet.

"Dementors are the foulest creatures to walk this earth," Daphne explained. "They were bred by Herpo the Foul from fear and dark magic. They prey on your fears, sucking all your happiest memories out. If they get close enough they will suck out your soul, which is caused the dementor's kiss. You'll live but you won't be there. You'll be a shell," she finished in a whisper.

Harry gave an involuntary shudder.

"Enough of said talk," Blaise intervened. "What about Hogsmeade?"

"You'll love it," the Twins chimed in.

"I have to wait until next year," Ginny pouted.

"We could sneak you in," the Twins smiled widely. "There's a passage that leads straight to Honeydukes."

Ginny gave an evil smirk that sent fear in them all.

"Weasleys are scary," Draco and Blaise proclaimed at the same time.

"Nah," George laughed. "Just Gin Gin. It's a Weasley family rule: Fear every Weasley Female."

"It was put in place for a reason," Fred said grimly. "I swear, my left nostril hasn't been the same."

"What did you do?" Lyra asked fascinated.

"The bat-bogey hex," Ginny smirked, leaning back as Hannah braided her hair. "Mum taught it to me the moment I got my wand."

"What does it do?" Draco asked.

"It makes your bogies turn into bats and fly out your nose," she smirked.

All of them winced.

"You have to teach me that," Susan gushed.

They exchanged smirks, and all of them shuddered. At one the food cart came and they ordered some candy, but Harry and the Malfoys all had their house elves cook proper meals, and they ate sandwiches, strawberries, and Ginger Ale, before going through several pumpkin pasties and Chocolate Frogs.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, and the wind roared.

Their compartment had split into several games now. Draco, who was almost as much of a chess fanatic as Ron had engaged Seamus in a game, while Dean and Daphne played Gobstones. Blaise, Fred, George, Luna, and Ginny were in a game of Exploding Snap. Lyra, Susan, and Hannah were all pouring over a girls magazine and giggling while Harry read through a book on magical creatures. He was surrounded by all their pets. Cheshire was resting on his head, Bottleneck in his lap, and the three owls had taken his shoulders. Harry wasn't sure how two owls fit on one shoulder but they did.

"You're a pet attraction," Ginny snickered.

Harry childishly stuck his tongue out, before returning to his reading about cockatrices. They were class XXXXX creatures according to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"We must be nearly there," Draco said, leaning out to look at the nearly black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," Lyra drawled sarcastically. "You jinxed it Drake."

"We can't be there yet," said Susan, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What the hell is going on?" Ginny asked.

The door opened, and two figures stumbled in.

"Fred!" Ginny shrieked. "You scared me!"

"George is here too you know!" George yelled indignantly.

"Oh hello!" Lee Jordan, the Quidditch announcer said.

"This carriage is full now," Luna commented randomly.

"Do you know why the lights went out?" Lee asked.

"You tell me," Daphne snorted.

"Ouch! George that was my foot!" Harry bellowed.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Lyra shrieked, exasperated. "Lumos!"

And the carriage lit up.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Hannah asked.

"The wrackspurts were crowding your mind," Luna told her.

"What are wrackspurts?" Blaise asked.

"Fuzzy invisible creatures that float around your brain and make you forget things. They swarm around fear."

"Cool," he decided.

Harry grinned. Most people would call Luna crazy. Blaise accepted it.

Suddenly the door started sliding open. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by lights from their wands, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

Dementor. That was all Harry knew.

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't...a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him -

And then his head was splitting. Harry was screaming and clutching his head, the pain was worse then when Voldemort had caught him in his first year. He was screaming and screaming because something in his head had cracked.

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W-what?"

Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking - the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Lyra and Luna were leaning next to him, while everyone else was watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.

"What happened?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Dementors cause him to relive his worst fear," Luna said sadly. "Harry saw his parents die."

The door of the compartment slid open and a ragged looking man with scars on his face, shabby robes, and brown hair streaked with grey came in.

"Was anyone in here affected?" he asked.

"Harry was. And Ginny," Seamus said.

"Here," he stated, handing Harry a thick bar of warm chocolate. "Chocolate will help. Share it with her."

"Thanks, sir," Harry murmured.

"Do you know what happened?" Ginny asked, shivering. Harry knew that she had probably relieved the Chamber of Secrets. "I was shivering and then some white thing came in and pushed the dementor away."

"That was my patronus," he said mildly.

Harry was still confused. "What's a patronus?" he asked.

"It's a spell that repels dementors and lethifolds, made out of your happiest memory," he explained. "Now I must go down the train and check on the others."

"That was horrible," Ginny whispered.

"It felt like all the happiness in the world was gone," Draco said softly, his cheeks looking gaunt in the light.

"I heard screaming," Harry whispered. "A woman."

"You mother," Luna whispered, a tear falling down her face.

"We have to learn how to repel dementors." Lyra said determinedly.

"The Patronus Charm he told us about," Fred pointed out.

"On that note, who was he?" Hannah asked.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "Probably the new DADA teacher."

"That makes sense," Susan said.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Harry turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"Hey Hagrid!" he waved, and the half giant waved back with a grin.

Harry quickly boarded a carriage with Lyra, Luna, Susan, Dean, Hannah, Seamus, and Draco, while the Twins, Lee, Ginny, Daphne, and Blaise took another.

The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates.

"Come on," Dean murmured, and Harry took a seat at the Gryffindor table with Dean, Seamus, Ginny, and the Twins. Ron and Hermione hovered at the edge with Neville and took a seat. Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie sat on the other edge. With a small wink Harry pulled out his wand and pointed at the hat. With devious grins the Twins pulled out their wands and pointed them at the hat under the table as McGonagall brought it in.

Harry smirked as the hat opened its brim to start singing.

 _Sawney Bean's got the munchies_

 _A craving for flesh and blood_

 _48 gaping mouths to tame_

 _A cave full of starving weans_

 _He'll chew the fat with anyone_

 _He'll chew anyone's fat_

 _And make no bones about it_

 _He'll be lurking in the dark_

 _Oh they're gonna hang us_

 _Oh we're gonna die_

 _But we'll be looking for you_

 _In the sweet by and by_

 _Thunder roars.a roch wind blows_

 _Darkness cloaks the day_

 _There's a foul storm brewing and a_

 _Howling gale is dragging its teeth this way_

 _Won't you guide us Lord, won't you guide us home_

 _To our castles yonder on the brae_

 _For our beasts are weary and the Devil he roams_

 _Down in Galloway_

 _Then came King James and all his men_

 _Seeking out their kill_

 _Through forest thick in grave pursuit_

 _O'er river, gorge and hill_

 _They breached Bean's cave and there they saw_

 _The fruits of Satan's chore_

 _Charred remains, masticated brains_

 _And entrails by the score_

"Creepiest song ever," Ginny grinned.

"I think we scarred the new firsties for life." George smirked.

"Best prank ever," Harry laughed.

"WHO DID THIS?" McGonagall screamed at them once the song was over.

They all stayed silent, for fear of dying by angry Transfiguration Professor. She glared at them all one last time before going to the Sorting Hat and telling him to start sorting. After a long sorting involving trembling first years and one cackling third year named Astoria Greengrass, who found the entire song hilarious and was sorted into Slytherin quicker than Draco Malfoy.

Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, and that was why Harry respected him.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He looked angry at the fact that Dementors would even be at the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at Snape," Seamus muttered to him.

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. Snape didn't even look at him like that anymore, so Lupin must have done something really bad.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Harry, Dean, and Ginny stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

"We should've known!" Ron roared at the edge, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.

"Excellent feast, like always," Seamus grinned.

The feast was delicious like always, and the hall resounded with happy clatters of eating utensils. At long last, when Harry was finished with his third plate of his favorite dessert, treacle tart, the feast ended and Harry was rushed to the Hospital Wing.

"Are you alright, Mr Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked, bustling to him.

"Come on," she muttered, using a diagnostic charm on him.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Your head has a large amount of dark magic residue!"

"I'm fine," Harry exclaimed. "It's just the dementor!"

"Fine," she relented, "You may go."

Harry sighed and ran from there, before finding his dorm. He unshrunk his trunk and with a levitation charm placed all of his things where they belonged, tacking his painting of his friends from Dean up next to his bed. His new Hogwarts satchel was made of dragonhide leather like his trunk and wand holster, and was equipped with a lightweight charm.

From a few beds over Ron Weasley looked jealously at his best friends new things. Why did Harry get new things and he didn't? Why couldn't Harry share his money with him? And Harry had started drifting away, hanging out with those filthy Slytherins and that oddball Loony Lovegood.

* * *

Neville stared in awe at Harry's amazing things. His gran would never get him those. Neville felt a spark of jealousy, and tried but failed at pushing it away. Why was he always pushed away? Why did everyone think he was worthless?

* * *

Albus Dumbledore looked at Madam Pomfrey's scans. This couldn't be! The dementor must have pulled the horcrux out of his head, but this would put a wrench in all his plans. He needed that horcrux so that Harry would die and he could defeat Tom! Hmm. He would have to devise a new plan.


	8. Lee Jordan

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter

 **Hey! Sorry it's taken so long to update, I've been studying for my Geometry and Physics tests. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

When Harry entered the hall for breakfast the next day the first thing he noticed was that no one but him was at the Gryffindor table yet. He shrugged, sat down, and pulled out his spell book. He was currently looking at an interesting spell that was literally nothing but a blast of Light Magic, and would overload the senses on any dark wizard.

Harry supposed he could classify himself as grey only. He studied both dark and light, much to Lyra's amusement, and he found them both interesting. Magic was magic.

"Hey Harry," George said absently as he plopped himself down, leaning over to grab a piece of toast.

"Hey George," Harry said, hiding his smirk as George took a bite out of his jinxed piece of toast.

"Damn it," George cursed as his hair fell off, leaving him bald. "Harry!" he whined.

Harry gave a loud chuckle. "You'll need a hair growing potion." he smirked.

"Pranked oh brother of mine?" Fred asked, grinning hugely.

"Blimey Harry!" Ron said. "I can't believe you pranked them!"

"It's nothing," Harry waved his wand absentmindedly.

"What book are you reading?" Hermione asked.

Harry showed her the cover, titled MOST COMMON LIGHT AND DARK CURSES.

"Are you sure you should be studying dark magic, Harry?" Hermione asked. "A lot of the spells are banned for a reason."

"I'm not studying the bad ones," Harry shrugged.

"But this is way above your level!" she pressed. "You could get hurt!"

"Actually, I've attempted a few and succeeded," Harry told her, not paying attention enough to see the flash of jealousy in her eyes.

"Don't turn into a bookworm mate." Ron laughed at him, taking a large piece of sausage out of one of the platters.

"And what's wrong with studying a little Ronald?" Hermione asked, cuing the two to start bickering.

Ginny rolled her eyes at the bickering couple as she joined them.

"Those two arguing again," she muttered.

"Yeah." Dean yawned from across the table, not even noticing Seamus sit down next to him.

"You two spend the night playing with Bertie Botts Every Flavored Beans again?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Seamus grinned.

"They do what?" Ginny arched her eyebrow.

"Damn we have classes!" Harry exclaimed all of a sudden after checking his black and gold watch.

"Electives first for us." Hermione said, checking the schedule.

"Ancient Runes." Harry grinned. "You have that too Mione."

"Why would you take such a hard class, mate?" Ron asked. "Divination will be much easier."

"But I don't want to take an easy class." Harry stated as though it was obvious.

"Your loss." he muttered, walking away to Divination.

Harry made it to the class and sat down in the middle row next to Lyra and Susan.

"Why don't you sit with me Harry?" Hermione asked from the front row.

"Because I'm sitting with them." Harry shrugged.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "I could help you study."

"Who said we can't?" Lyra spat.

Hermione glared at her before turning away with a flounce, right when the teacher entered.

"Hello!" she exclaimed. She was in her 30s maybe, with modest purple robes on. "I am Professor Bathshelda Babbling, and this is Ancient Runes 101. Now, will everyone pull out their copies of Rune Uses and Tablets?"

Harry pulled his book out.

"Good. Now everyone turn to page 6 and start memorizing the rune tables, which will push into homework. If you want you can try carving some of them, though not on any of the good quality stones. Maybe some rocks, but no marble."

Harry opened his book and started reading. It was interesting, how the runes worked. He pulled out a muggle notebook that was blue and started taking some notes on runes.

"That was an excellent class." Susan chirruped later.

"It was." Harry grinned. "Though how I'm going to memorize an entire page of beginner runes only Merlin knows."

"Lots of reading." Lyra grumbled.

The rest of the day went on well, and soon it was time for Harry's first Care of Magical Creatures Lesson. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Harry took Ron and Hermione to Draco, Hannah, and Dean, but they refused to hang with a Slytherin. Harry just shrugged when they tried to take him with them. Frankly, their anti Slytherin attitude was getting tiring.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harry had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last him a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

"How?" Draco drawled. "I've had to snap my book shut so it won't hurt me."

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Totally obvious." Theo Nott sneered.

Harry glared at him.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so - so yeh've got yer books an'...an'...now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"He's going to ruin Hagrid's class." Harry grumbled.

"To be fair Hagrid tried to raise a dragon in a wooden hut." Draco pointed out, lounging near a tree with his hands in his pockets.

"But he's a good person!" Harry argued.

"He's naive." Draco shot back. "Slytherins will take advantage of that."

"You're a Slytherin." Dean shot back.

"I'm a good Slytherin." Draco stated, putting his hand on his heart and putting on an offended look.

"Is that even a thing?" Hannah smirked.

"Better than being a Gryffindork." Draco snapped.

"Ugh." Dean drawled. "Your arguments are so annoying."

"Are not!" the duo rounded on him simultaneously.

"Oooooooh!" squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black. He had read about them, but hadn't gotten to the pictures yet.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

Harry was the only one to step forward, but he didn't mind. He thought it would be an amazing accomplishment to be friends with a hippogriff, plus if no one stepped forward it would embarrass Hagrid.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

"Right - who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. "Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it, Harry...now, bow."

Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.

The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right - back away, now, Harry, easy does it -"

But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right - yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it. Harry grinned widely. He did it!

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn't sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn't sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered with feathers.

"Go on, then!" roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the Hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Windstorm 50 he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Dean, Hannah, and Draco practiced on Buckbeak while Harry watched. Ron and Hermione took the chestnut.

Then, when Harry wasn't paying attention he heard a high pitched scream.

"AAGH!" Nott screamed on the ground, his arm sporting a long deep gouge from a black hippogriff named Witherwings.

"EEH!" Pansy Parkinson screeched. "Are you alright Theo?"

Harry noticed that the moment Draco had started hanging out with them she had gone from simpering over him to simpering over Nott. Lyra called her a golddigger, something that Susan had sniggered at.

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here -"

"He's not dying." Hannah scoffed as Hermione rushed to open the gate for Hagrid and Nott.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.

"It was fault!" snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase.

"Ugh." Harry rolled his eyes before sauntering away to the usual classroom so he could test out his new spells. Hannah, Dean, and Draco went with him.

"Look at this one." he said, aiming his spell at the wall. "Incendio."

A thin stream of flame shot out of his wand to the wall.

"And?" Dean raised his eyebrow. "We've seen you do that before."

Harry smirked. "Incendio!" he said again, but this time instead of a thin stream of fire a large fireball burst out of his wand like a dragon's puff of flame.

"Damn." Draco whistled.

"I've been working on a stream with my power so that my spells will work differently." Harry explained.

"Onto other news." Draco drawled. "Nott's going to try and get Buckbeak killed. He'll want revenge, and he'll want to humiliate Hagrid."

"So how do we stop him?" Hannah asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

"I can talk to my father." he shrugged, "but it won't stop Nott from making a big deal out of it."

And indeed he did, but not in the way anyone expected. He came in on Thursday in Potions completely unharmed.

"Does it hurt?" Parkinson simpered.

"Nah." Nott waved her away. "It'll take more than a hippogriff to hurt me."

"You're so brave!" she cooed.

But no one noticed Nott staring at Lyra as he talked about how he was stronger than it. No one except for Professor Snape, his black eyes watching inquisitively as Harry laughed with Lyra when he prepared the Shrinking Solution.

"No!" she squealed. "You have to put the shrivelfig in after you the vampire blood!"

"Oops." his eyes sparkling with mirth that he used to see in Lily's eyes, laughed Potter. No. Not Potter. Harry. Lily's son.

Nearby, Longbottom's and Weasley's cauldron blew up, and he sighed. He supposed he should have expected it. What he was thinking, pairing those two together he wasn't sure, but it was better than any of those two and Crabbe and Goyle. Nearby he noticed Millicent Bulstrode growling at Crabbe as he stupidly stirred the cauldron in the wrong direction.

Idiots. At least some of his groups had been paired up properly. Draco had been teaching the muggleborn Thomas how to brew properly, so at least there were no explosions there. Finnigan and Greengrass were doing well too. He supposed the class wasn't as bad as it could have been.

* * *

It was time for their first DADA class. With an excited grin to Ron he walked in and took a seat next to him and Hermione, Dean and Seamus behind him.

They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin -"

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get into his brooms."

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing. Harry grinned. He hadn't read about that spell in his books; he would have to remember it.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. He sneered at them all and went out, his robes billowing behind him.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.

"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.

'The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please...riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in Neville. I thought that you could be my volunteer."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"I didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Harry hummed quietly. The fact that Snape was the scariest thing to Lupin was a very funny thing to him, but he shouldn't laugh. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape...hmmm...Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er - yes," said Neville nervously. "But - I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well...always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress...green, normally...and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand - thus - and cry "Riddikulus" - and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

The room went quiet. Harry thought...What scared him most in the world?

His first thought was Lord Voldemort - a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before he had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a Boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of his mind...

A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak...a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth...then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning...his head cracking

Harry shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ron was muttering to himself, "Take its legs off." Harry was sure he knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Harry gave a small grin. He could turn the dementor's cloak bright pink, and make his face that of a bunny.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward...Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot -"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One - two - three - now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R - r - riddikulus! " squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising -

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face - a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harry's head stand on end - "Riddikulus!" shouted Seamus.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then - crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before - crack! - becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" shouted Lupin. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

"Riddikulus!" yelled Dean.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Ron had frozen. Then -

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but he saw Lupin hurry forward to block it and Harry sent a muttered tripping jinx on him and stepped forward.

A dementor, it's breath rasping and rattling in front of him. A cold grey had reached out and Harry felt like he was drowning. Mustering up his strength, "Riddikulus!" he said, and the dementor turned into a hot pink cloak.

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as he got up and the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone...Let me see...five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me...to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. Harry, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. Why had Professor Lupin tried to stop him from meeting his boggart?

But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted Seamus.

"And the hand!" said Dean, waving his own around.

"And Snape in that hat!"

"And my mummy!"

"I wonder what Professor Lupin's frightened of?" Lavender asked thoughtfully.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart -"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Harry snickered with Ron before going off to the library to research the Patronus Charm. If dementors were going to affect him that much he was going to learn how to stop them.

As time went on DADA became everyone's favorite class, and COMC had become boring. Harry had taken to sitting down with Hagrid and working with him on lesson plans to keep the classes safe and fun. The classes had gotten better after that, though Harry was increasing his reading time to find new animals that Hagrid could teach them about. Currently they had gone back to hippogriffs, but with more safety measures.

Draco's father had managed to strike down Lord Nott's proposition to have Buckbeak killed, and Nott had been in a snappish mood for a while. Harry payed it no heed however, because Quidditch was arriving! The team captain, Oliver Wood, was an amazing Quidditch fanatic and he was giving a speech at the moment.

"This is our last chance - my last chance - to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."

"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world - injuries - then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best - ruddy - team - in - the - school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."

Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell.

"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

"Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.

"We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

"Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.

"Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.

"We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.

"Definitely," said Harry.

Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish Harry's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.

Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.

"What's happened?", he asked Ron and Hermione, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, who had followed Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Harry grinned. He, Fred, and George were planning on sneaking Ginny into Hogsmeade to plot at Zonko's for a big prank with Lee Jordan. Suffice to say, it involved Professor McGonagall's underpants, Mrs. Norris, catnip, and some furry pink stockings.

The plan was simple. Harry would take her up to the one eyed witch with a hump in her back where there lay a passage to Honeydukes, and smuggle Ginny in with his invisibility cloak. Once there Fred and George would put notice me not charms on her so nobody but them would see her. Then, they would get to plotting and buy what they needed for the prank.

"Come on." Harry motioned to Ginny, and she crept into the passage.

"I'll meet you at Honeydukes!" she said.

Harry hurried out and into a carriage with the twins, Lyra, Dean, and Blaise, the last three of whom were laughing at a joke the Twins had cracked. When the ride was over they rushed to Honeydukes and found Ginny near the assigned area of Cockroach Clusters. Whipping the Invisibility Cloak off her they cast the charms and soon nobody noticed her but them.

"Come on!" she squealed, rushing into Zonkos.

"Let's go over the plan." Fred grinned.

"We will sneak into McGonagall's sleeping place." George said.

"Using my Invisibility Cloak." Harry added.

"We'll add catnip to all her undergarments." Fred said.

"Then we'll run away." George finished.

"Meanwhile, I'll be with a stunned Mrs. Norris so she can't contact Filch." Ginny smirked.

"I'll be with her and the Marauder's Map." Harry plotted.

"We'll add a crazy attraction charm to catnip, though cat's already like that." Ginny told them.

"While I keep watch." Harry finished.

"The next day will be ARMAGEDDON!" Lee cackled from behind, scaring the hell out of them all.

"Don't do that!" Ginny screeched, smacking poor Lee as he winced.

"And then at the prescribed time the charm will wear off and smoke will enter the sky." Harry stated in an ominous voice.

"The Marauders and the Hogwarts Pranksters." George prescribed across the sky.

"Plus the girl!" Ginny reminded.

"Never forget the girl." Lee shook his head solemnly.

"Come on." Harry grinned. "We have to get the catnip, while I write down McGonagall's schedule."

"How did you find that out Harry?" Fred asked.

"I followed where she went on the Map for about a month. Tomorrow evening when we go to plant the catnip she won't be anywhere near her office until midnight, and the job should be done by ten." Harry explained.

"Our little Padawan." Fred wiped away a mock tear.

"All grown up!" George finished.

"And ready to hex you two prats." Harry threatened.

"Relax." Lee laughed. "Harry, don't you have to meet with Lyra, Luna, and Draco so you can explore Honeydukes?"

"Yes!" Harry cheered, bounding off to the sweetshop. "Wait." he paused. "Ginny, keep the cloak so you can get back to Hogwarts. Just place it in my dorm." and then he rushed off.

By the time he came back to Hogwarts he was loaded with Sugar Quills, Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, and many other delicious sweets. He had tricked Draco into trying an Acid Pop but had been given donkey's ears for that; they still hadn't worn away. Lyra had laughed at him for that, while Luna had stole his Bertie Bott's.

They had visited Dervish and Banges for some more ink, and gone to Three Broomsticks for butterbeer: a warm frothy drink that Harry loved.

"Come on!" Lyra squealed. "The Halloween Feast!"

Luna bounced in, hyped on sugar, and the rest followed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.

Harry was surrounded by Dean, Seamus, Lee, Ginny, Fred, and George, while Ron and Hermione bickered about something Scabbers and Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, did. The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

Harry played a tinier prank for fun where he made Snape's hair look like it was shampooed, and put up his usual Marauders sign. To his surprise, not only did Snape glare at him, albeit less venomous than he used to, but Lupin also looked at him curiously.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.

Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy -"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my -" Hermione grabbed Harry's arm.

The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry. Harry let out a small groan. Peeves was on good terms with all pranksters including him, but he also showed up at any sign of trouble.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Harry couldn't concentrate. Couldn't pay attention. He was completely zoned out until Lyra found him, slapped him awake, and then plopped him into a sleeping bag in a circle of his friends. Lyra, Draco, Luna, Fred, George, Daphne, Blaise, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Susan, and Hannah were all with him.

"What was that?" Blaise asked, his violet eyes flashing with curiosity.

"Sirius Black just tried to get into Gryffindor Tower to kill me." Harry stated plainly. "He got into Hogwarts. How am I supposed to be safe if he can get into Hogwarts?"

"Lights out!" Percy yelled above all the noise. "Stop talking!"

"Swot." Draco rolled his eyes at him.

Harry stifled a laugh.

"Harry." he heard Hermione's bossy voice behind him. "Why can't you join my and Ron? It will be safer."

"What's unsafe about where I am?" Harry asked.

Hermione flushed but Harry could see her glaring at Draco, Lyra, Blaise, and Daphne, all of whom were sending cool smirks at her in their sleeping bags.

Hermione sent a glare at them and flounced off. Harry rolled his eyes and went back to his sleeping bag. Honestly, just because they were Slytherins didn't mean they were going to kill him. That bias was getting old and unnecessary.

"So how do you think he got in?" Daphne asked, her ice blue eyes showing no emotion.

"He couldn't have apparated." Blaise reasoned.

"Or flown." Susan brought up.

"How would he fly past the dementors though?" Hannah asked.

"I'm just glad he didn't succeed." Lyra sighed. "I would hate if someone died."

"Harry wouldn't die. The pifflepuffs would protect him."

"So I have protection?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but only from a basic killing curse and other situations that extend your life Unfortunately, it's gone now." Luna told him. "Like the dementors on the train: you would have gotten the kiss but instead the pifflepuffs protected you, dying in the process."

Harry thought about that as they all lay down to go to bed. Luna's creatures usually were thanks to her version of the Sight, but what did the Pifflepuffs represent? Harry drifted off to sleep as he thought about it.

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Ernie MacMillan, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub. Susan had laughed at him for that and beaten down every reason he had to think such a thing, much to his embarrassment and Harry's amusement.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harry's worries. He was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy Weasley (acting, Harry suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a somber expression on her face Harry thought someone must have died.

Harry suspected what she wanted to talk about, and beat her to it. "Professor!" he interrupted her as she started. "I already know that Sirius Black is out to get me. I asked Ginny. I did research too, and I know that he's my godfather. Don't worry about it."

She gave him a severe glare. "Then surely you can see my need to stop your quidditch practices for safety!" she reprimanded him.

Harry gaped. She couldn't stop quidditch! "Can't Madame Hooch watch us?" he asked desperately.

She gave him a last piercing look before nodding and dismissing him; he ran out quickly. The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, right before the game Wood came to them with unwelcome news.

"We're not playing Slytherin! We're playing Hufflepuff!"

"Did they back out?" Fred asked angrily.

"No!" he exploded. "Since the weather's going to be so bad Hooch put up a sign up sheet for the next game in case any other house wants to play and Hufflepuff signed up!"

"That's great." Harry said dryly. "Just great Oliver."

"Cedric Diggory is too strong a player to have not trained Hufflepuff properly." Katie Bell frowned.

We'll just practice harder." Fred said determinedly.

"We better." Oliver growled.

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit.

"I'm so sorry about this." Lyra had apologized. "Flint really didn't want to play, the coward."

"It's alright." Harry waved her off with a grin.

"Still…" the blond chaser trailed off.

"It's fine." Harry promised. "Now check out this new spell I found!"

Harry turned to face the empty ground. "Thyrsus!"

They watched as a pointed metal spike quickly shot out of the hard ground before retreating just as quick as it had come.

"Damn." Lyra commented, impressed.

"Yeah." Harry laughed. "Amazing battle spell, and it would have been really useful against the basilisk.

"So what did you think of the last DADA class?" Lyra asked, referring to the class where Professor Snape substituted for Professor Lupin.

"Pretty interesting." Harry commented. "I thought the learning about werewolves was really fascinating."

"Me too." she grinned. "It was a pity Professor Lupin couldn't teach it."


	9. Cedric Diggory

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! Finally updated! Sorry it's taken so long, but I've been binge reading Looks can be Deceiving, by corvusdraconis. Read it! It's amazing. For those of you who couldn't tell, this fanfic is Deamus. Also, follow me on tumblr.**

* * *

Harry flew around the stormy sky looking for the Snitch, Hufflepuff seeker Cedric Diggory at the opposite end of the field. Even with the Impervious charm on all the Gryffindor members they were damp, and their brooms were getting slippery. Shaking his black hair out of his eyes Harry zoomed down to run distraction for Angelina as she scored another goal, making them ahead of Hufflepuff by 30. It was still anyone's game.

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry needed to get the Snitch quickly -

He turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely, the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.

The Grim. Harry had read about it in his books: it was an omen of death. Shaking his head, he saw that the Grim had disappeared; he took it as a hallucination and kept flying, his hands nearly slipping on his Windstorm.

"Harry!" came Wood's anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. "Harry, behind you!"

Harry looked wildly around. Cedric Diggory was pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them...

With a jolt of panic, Harry threw himself flat to the broom handle and zoomed toward the Snitch. He leaned on his Windstorm and caught up to Diggory; they were neck and neck. But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had gone suddenly deaf - what was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the field below…

Before he'd had time to think, Harry had taken his eyes off the Snitch and looked down.

At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath him. It was as though freezing water were rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it again...Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head...a woman...

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -"

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Harry's brain...What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her...She was going to die...She was going to be murdered...

He was falling, falling through the icy mist.

"Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy..."

A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Harry knew no more.

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"But he didn't even break his glasses."

Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Scariest...the scariest thing...hooded black figures...cold...screaming...

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. His friends were around his bed. Fred and George, splattered with mud from head to foot were looking at him concernedly. Lyra and Draco were right next to him, while Luna hummed softly under her breath. Daphne and Blaise were there too, while Dean and Seamus had painted their faces half red half gold for Gryffindor.

He let out a groan as he sat up, stretching his muscles.

"Harry!" Lyra shrieked, enveloping him in a hug.

Harry's mind blanked for a moment as he registered how soft Lyra's hair was before he was pulled back to reality.

"How was the game?" he croaked.

"How was the game?!" Ginny screeched. "The game! Harry, I love quidditch as much as you but you nearly died, and all you can think of is THE GAME!" her voice rose in volume.

Harry winced. "Er.. yes?"

She threw her arms up in defeat.

"So how was the game?" he asked.

There was silence for a while. "It tied." Blaise told him finally, his usually smirking face grim.

"What?" Harry asked, his mind jarred. "After you fell, Diggory caught the Snitch, but when he saw what had happened he forfeited. Hooch tried to give him the game but he point blank refused, and demanded a rematch. You guys are replaying in two weeks."

"Wow." Harry said finally. "What about my broom?"

Harry noted that Susan and Hannah both gave winces at that.

"Err, Harry?" Susan asked softly. "When you fell off your broom it kept going, and well, it crashed into the Whomping Willow."

Harry's eyes widened. The Whomping Willow was the most destructive tree at Hogwarts, it destroyed anything in a ten foot radius of it. If his broom had hit it…

He watched in trepidation as Susan and Hannah uncovered a package that held his Windstorm. Harry's heart dropped in his chest as he saw the cracks along the broom, and how it had split in half. The twigs were missing in some places, and Harry knew that his broom was irreparable.

He said nothing. Did nothing. Just sat and stared at his broom. He vaguely noticed everyone but Lyra leaving but he barely registered it: his broom had been destroyed. Totalled. It was gone, broken just like so many things in his life.

"Brooms must hate you." Lyra jested softly, trying the ease the tension.

"I really liked that broom." Harry said softly.

"You can always get a new one." she suggested.

"Not because it was a good broom." he told her. "Because you gave it to me. I have never had anyone spend so much money on me for no reason other than because I'm their friend. The Windstorm 50 was expensive, but you still bought it for me. It was then that I truly called you one of my close friends."

Lyra had no response to that. She stayed silent, perched next to Harry on his Hospital Bed, just sitting.

"I can get a new one." she said finally.

"No." he shook his head. "That would be charity. I can get my own broom easily, but even if I order one now I won't get it until Christmas at the earliest."

"You can borrow my broom until you get a new one." she told him.

"Thanks." Harry murmured, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Harry wasn't in a good mood. There was no doubt about it: his broom was broken and he was unable to sleep due to nightmares. And then there were the Dementors. Harry felt sick and humiliated every time he thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.

Because Harry knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. He had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while he lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached him, he heard the last moments of his mother's life, her attempts to protect him, Harry, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her...Harry dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on his mother's voice.

"Harry." Lyra told him, jolting him out of this thoughts in Runes. "Daphne wants to talk to all of us. She's bringing her little sister, Astoria."

"Hey guys." Daphne smiled, bringing them in.

Harry grinned at her, before getting a good look at Daphne's sister. They looked like opposites. While Daphne had pale skin and blonde hair, Astoria had dark hair and tan skin. Daphne was tall and slender, while Astoria was shorter and more well built, though still thin. Daphne's eyes were a pale ice blue, while Astoria's were a deep ocean blue.

"I'm Astoria." she introduced herself.

"Harry." he responded.

"Hey guys!" Ginny said cheerfully as she bounded in.

She was doing better as time went on in regards to the Chamber Incident, and hadn't had nightmares in a while.

"Don't talk about important things yet." Luna stated serenely. "The Nargles tell me that others are listening."

Harry was the first to understand. "Listening charms." he realized.

"Here." Fred told him, waving his wand and removing the charms.

"Thanks." Lyra told him. "Now, why did we bring these new kids here?"

"I think that they should be inducted into the group." Ginny said.

"It's my sister and she was annoying me." Daphne smirked.

"Totally." Astoria drawled as she leaned on a desk.

"Well, I actually have important news." Draco told them.

"What is it?" Hannah asked.

"Yes, we're dying to know." Fred grinned.

"Relieve the tension!" George bellowed, to much laughter.

"When the dementors swooped at Harry, I got really panicked and tried yelling at them to stop." he started.

"I'm sensing there's more to this." Blaise said.

"Well, when I said it they actually stopped for a second before going back. Lyra says that I wasn't speaking English, like Harry's parseltongue."

"I did research on this." Lyra told them grimly. "It's called dementor whispering. Apparently Draco can control dementors, but because he was a novice they didn't listen to him. I went into our family tree, and it's a recessive gene from the Rosier Family, passed down my my grandmum, who was a Rosier. Her great grandma was a dementor whisperer."

"Blimey." George was the first to break the silence.

"Mate, that's pretty cool." Harry said in awe.

"Dementors are great to control. You could stop them from hurting us." Astoria pointed out.

"But if Draco loses control even for a second they will turn on him." Luna pointed out.

"We need to master dementor protection first if we're going to train Draco." Daphne decided.

"Hey, don't I get a say in this!" Draco butted in.

"Are you really telling me that you don't want to become a Dementor Whisperer?" Susan scoffed.

"No, but it would have been nice to ask first." Draco sulked.

"Aaw." Fred cooed.

"Did we hurt"

"Ickle Draco's"

"Feelings?"

"Shut up." he grumped, to all of their amusement.

"Now, I have business." Harry shrugged. "I need to go thank Diggory."

They all left the classroom, and Harry used the Map to find where Cedric Diggory was.

"Excuse me?" he called to the tall Hufflepuff, who was laughing with some other Hufflepuff guys.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Er, I wanted to thank you for calling a tie game. It was really fair of you. I honestly don't think Oliver would have done the same thing."

"You're welcome Potter." Diggory grinnned.

* * *

"The Patronus Charm." Lyra told him in the library. "It can repel dementors."

"So now we need to learn it." Ginny hummed.

"Professor Flitwick will." Luna told them as she Dutch braided Ginny's long flame red hair.

"He is a charms master." Draco pointed out.

"And he's a really fair teacher." Daphne nodded.

"No prejudices." George said.

"Well?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow elegantly.

Harry briefly wondered how he managed to do it elegantly, but for some reason he and Daphne always looked like kings and queens: walking around with perfect poise and manners, while Harry stumbled everywhere.

"Come on." Hannah squealed.

They all went to Flitwick's office, where he was grading papers.

"Uh, Professor?" Harry asked, peeking in.

"Oh yes! Hello Mr Potter! And Mr and Miss Malfoy, and oh! miss Weasley! Do come in, all of you."

Once they were piled in he asked why they were here.

"We want to learn the Patronus Charm." Lyra stated.

"Really!" he looked surprised. "That's advanced magic children."

"We need to." Draco said firmly.

"Hmm." he thought. "I don't know if I will be able to teach all of you."

"Teach Harry." Susan said, surprising them all. "Him, Lyra, Draco, and Luna. When they learn they can teach us."

"That would work." he murmured. "Very well!"

Harry grinned, pumping his arm. Luna smiled happily, and Draco naturally smirked. Harry suspected it was a Slytherin thing they taught in classes. He stifled a laugh of the idea of Lyra and Draco sitting in front of their mirrors practicing their smirks while instructors commentated on it.

"No! A little too much of a smile! Don't frown so much!"

"What are you laughing about mate?" Fred asked.

"Imagine Slytherins in a smirking class." Harry choked out.

It took exactly five seconds before everyone collapsed into laughter, while the Slytherins there glared at them all imperiously.

"We will start now!" Flitwick decided. "Everyone leave but these four!"

* * *

Harry was mad. He couldn't make the patronus! All that came for him was smoke, while Lyra and Drake's were more defined. Draco's was definitely reptilian, and Lyra's was a serpent of some sort. Harry's was fuzzy, but other than that he knew nothing.

"You need happier memories Harry." Luna told him. Her patronus was the most defined of them all, and it was clearly a bird of some sort. They were in Hogsmeade, and Harry was in the frosty meadow near the Shrieking Shack, trying to make a patronus. Luna had eaten through a lot of candy, so she was bouncing around.

"I'm trying Luna." Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I've tried flying on a broom, meeting the Dursley's, seeing my parent's pictures for the first time. Nothing works."

Luna sighed. "Harry close your eyes." Harry listened to her. "Now calm your mind. Imagine a fresh spring day, and you're near the edge of the Black Lake." Harry let her words float in his mind, calming down. "Now imagine it's us. We're laughing. Draco's tickling Lyra, and Dean is laughing at us all. Ginny's chasing the Twins around for a prank. You're practicing spells. Now say it. Expecto Patronum."

"Expecto Patronum." Harry said, keeping the image in his mind. When he opened his eyes he saw an animal slowly forming, before evaporating as he lost control.

"I did it!" Harry shouted excitedly. "I did it!"

"It was definitely canine." Susan observed.

"See." Luna smiled, back to her usual dreamy self. "You just needed some happiness."

Harry smiled back at her.

* * *

They won the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff. Harry barely beat Diggory to the snitch, but he accepted the loss well, shaking hands with Harry and grinning before leaving. Harry thought that he represented everything a Hufflepuff should be- fair and loyal. Harry had formed a good camaraderie with the older boy, though he was never inducted into their group.

Classes went on, and Harry learned more. He had started practice duelling with Professor Flitwick after his classes when he had free time, and all the spells he knew came in handy, though he was unable to ever land a good stunner on the miniscule Professor.

He was improving by leaps and bounds, however. Recently he had managed to defeat Fred in a duel, which was an excellent achievement seeing as the boy was two years older than him.

* * *

"Come on mate!" Ron awoke him excitedly. "It's Christmas!"

Grinning, Harry leaped out of bed to his pile of presents, which this year was the same size as Ron's. Lyra and Draco had sent him some good books, Susan a pair of nice robes, and Hannah another pair of robes. The twins, Ginny, and Lee sent him pranking supplies, while Daphne, Astoria, and Blaise bought him candy. Luna had made him a butterbeer cap necklace. Mrs. Weasley had sent him his usual sweater, this time in emerald green and gold, with some cake and mince pies. Ron had gotten him some Chudley Cannon socks, which Harry was never going to wear, and Hermione sent him a book on easy spells that he didn't really need.

"Hey Harry, what's that?" Ron asked, and Harry turned around to see a broomstick roll out of a package on his bed. It was a Firebolt.

"Bloody hell." Harry breathed, staring in reverence at the vibrating broomstick.

Its handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration numbeer at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.

"Who sent it to you?" said Ron in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry.

Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings.

"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"

"Well," said Harry, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys. And I know it wasn't Lyra or Draco.

"I still can't believe you're friends with those guys." Ron muttered, almost too quietly.

Harry suppressed a sigh. "I don't want to have this argument again Ron." he snapped.

"Whatever." Ron muttered.

Harry rolled his eyes and went to get dressed in the new robes Susan gave him: they were black with emerald green snakes on them, to represent his parseltongue. He also hung up Dean's new portrait in place of his old one, carefully wrapping the old one and placing it in his drawer.

The new painting had expanded: this time they were near the Whomping Willow in autumn, with the Forbidden Forest behind them. They were magical paintings again, but they couldn't speak. Ginny was in the middle, laughing with Luna, Fred, and George over a bag of dungbombs. Susan and Hannah were with Dean and Seamus in a circle, with Seamus resting his head in Dean's lap. Harry was sitting on a branch of the tree, though it was still and not moving, with Lyra hanging upside down next to him. Blaise, Draco, and surprisingly Astoria, all of whom were Quidditch lovers, were on their brooms above the group, while Daphne was reading a book on the ground.

Harry had just sent Dean a kit of high quality magical art supplies, but this painting was amazing.

"Hey Seamus." Harry grinned after he came out of the shower. Dean was still asleep on Seamus's shoulder, but Seamus grinned at him.

"Hey mate." he greeted.

"Harry!" Hermione burst in, just to see Neville come out of the bathroom starkers, turn bright red, and rush back in. Hermione blushed.

"How are you in here?" Seamus asked.

"The wards allow me in." she stated, like that explained everything.

Dean groaned, waking up with a cat-like stretch. "Girls can get into guys dorms, but guys can't get into girls. Pretty sexist."

"That's not sexist!" Hermione argued.

"So they trusted the girls more than the guys?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well…" Hermione bit her lip.

Dean smirked smugly as he got out of bed and trudged to the bathroom.

"So why are you here Hermione?" Harry asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Ron said you have a Firebolt." Hermione told him.

"And?" Harry raised his eyebrow this time.

"Harry, there wasn't a note. It could be dangerous." she said.

"Ok." Harry shrugged, having thought of the same thing already. "I'll go get it checked out."

He left, signalling to Dean and Seamus to meet him in the classroom. He walked over, slumping down into a comfortable chair. The room had been theirs for so long that they had changed it. It had been expanded, and all the desks vanished. They were replaced by transfigured couches, chairs, bean bags, and carpets, along with a main table near the front.

"Hey mate." Fred sauntered in, his twin and Ginny following him with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"You know, we have to find a better way to coordinate our meetings." Daphne commented as she came in with the Slytherins and Luna.

"I recommend the Protean Charm." Blaise said.

"I've read about it." Harry commented, "But it's a NEWT level charm."

"You'd be able to to do it." Luna said calmly. "The Nargles told me."

"Ok." Harry shrugged, taking her word for granted. "I'll try it out later."

"Why were we called here?" Ginny asked bluntly.

Harry flashed her a grin, before pulling his Firebolt out. All the occupants of the room were awestruck.

"Bloody hell mate." Draco was the first to break the silence.

"That's a Firebolt!" Lyra squeaked.

"Yeah." Harry laughed, effectively shattering the tension. "The problem is I don't know who sent it, and I want to check it out for any charms on the broom that could hurt me."

"It was sent in good will." Luna told them, her silver blue eyes unfocused. "The sender only wishes to help you."

"Well that settles that." George said. "Now, anyone up for a snowball fight?"

Hours later, splattered with snow and shivering, Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor common room with Dean, Seamus, Fred, George, and Ginny.

"Best snowball fight ever." Fred decided, sprawling himself ungracefully onto a chair near the fire to warm up.

"Definitely." Harry agreed, sitting with Fred on the couch, and leaving Ginny with the other chair.

"Hey mate, want to play a game of chess?" Ron asked as he came in with Hermione.

"Sure." Harry shrugged, seating himself on a chair near the chessboard.

The board was the new board he had bought Ron, with glass pieces and ruby eyes. Harry had gotten better at the game, since he had been playing with Blaise daily; the dark Slytherin was on par with Ron's skills, and loved chess as it was the game his father used to play with him before he was killed.

"Knight to E4." Harry commanded, taking Ron's bishop, and leaving his pawn open to take the other knight.

"Damn it Harry." Ron cursed. "When did you get so good?"

"I've been practicing." Harry commented offhandedly.

"With who?" Hermione demanded, pouncing on that sentence like a lion on a gazelle.

"Blaise Zabini." Harry said. "He's really good at chess, as good as Ron."

"Harry, are you sure you can trust him?" Hermione demanded bossily.

Harry rolled his eyes, too lazy to suppress his sigh. "Hermione, not all Slytherins are evil. I get if you don't want to be friends with them, but don't go trying to control who I befriend."

"Harry, I'm just looking out for you." Hermione said.

"Pawn to F8." Harry commanded, before grinning triumphantly. "Checkmate!"

Ron looked aghast as his king threw his crown down in surrender before the entire board packed itself up with a wave from Harry's wand.

"What spell was that?" Hermione asked. "I haven't heard of it."

"It's a mainly silent spell." Harry explained. "The only non verbal spell I know. It's centered mostly around chess, and I found it in a book that Draco sent me."

"Harry-" Hermione started in her bossy tone again.

"No Hermione, I'm not going to break off my friendship with him just because he's a Slytherin." Hermione interrupted.

"Fine." she huffed. "Did you check the broom?"

"The Nargles told Luna that the broom was safe, so I didn't bother."

"Harry, you can't be serious." she huffed again. "Nargles don't exist!"

"Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they don't exist." Ginny snapped at her. "Frankly, you calling Luna delusional is more of what get's on my nerves. Don't insult our friend."

"I'm gonna go." Harry sighed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Might as well get ready for dinner."

He went up, dried off, and went to dinner with Dean, Seamus, Fred, George, and Ginny, not in a very good mood with Ron and Hermione. He forgot about it all when dinner started, and Lyra, who Harry thought looked really pretty in her silver robes. Harry was a little confused as to why Dumbledore looked rather put off the entire evening, but he ignored it. He was having an amazing Christmas, and he didn't want to ruin it.

* * *

Drat that boy! Dumbledore thought that he had broken the friendship between him and the Malfoy children, but the Lovegood girl had found and removed his compulsion charms before Harry could notice. Damn it, his plans were going to hell.

He needed Harry to be prepared to do his part in the war, and help the light win. He was not a grey wizard! Harry was only pulling away from Ronald and Hermione, even though they were both good light influences. Ronald was also a Weasley, and all of them were in debt to him after he helped them pay for his house.

* * *

Harry laughed as he went back up to the tower with his Gryffindor friends. Daphne had let loose under the influence of a nice Christmas feast, and it was the first time Harry had seen her truly smile. Trewlaney, the Divination bat, had come in and sat down after shrieking about how thirteen people at the table meant the first to rise would be the first to die.

When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Merry - hic - Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy cur," said Ginny..

"And the same to you, sir! roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.

"I can't wait to try this thing out." Harry said in awe as he admired his Firebolt.

"Yeah mate." Dean laughed, reclining on Seamus's chest in ease.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps, and Professor McGonagall walked into the room. Dean leapt out of Seamus's bed and into his own before she could notice, but she was more fixated on the shining broom in Harry's hands. Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, Harry had only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement.

"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."

Harry groaned internally. Of course Hermione would do that.

"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Harry blankly.

"I see..." said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."

"W - what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down -"

"Professor I did check it! We confirmed it had nothing on it!" Harry protested angrily.

"Be as it may Mr. Potter, there may have been something you missed." she replied. "And I'm afraid that the word of Miss Lovegood does not count for very much when she is only a second year."

Harry glared at her furiously. "I trust Luna with my life." he retorted.

"Yeah!" Dean chimed in. "Seamus and I were there Professor!"

"I'm afraid that I will still have to check it." she replied.

"You can't do that!" Harry argued. "That broom is my private property, and I've read the Hogwarts Charter! You are unable to legally seize my broom and strip it down without my permission!"

"Harry, you really should let her check it." Hermione told him reproachfully.

Harry sent her a burning glare that shut her up before turning back to Professor McGonagall.

"Yes Mr. Potter, but I have permission from your magical guardian." she replied.

"Who is?" Harry asked.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." she replied.

"I was unaware of this though." he stated.

"I'm afraid that that is a problem you will have to take up with the headmaster." McGonagall replied, before striding out with the broom.

"Really Hermione?" Harry asked, rounding on her, incensed. "I told you it was checked!"

"Well frankly I don't trust the word of a loony girl!" Hermione exploded.

The room went eerily silent as Harry stared at her, shaking in rage. Dean and Seamus exploded out of the bed in protest.

"Don't you dare," Harry hissed, "call Luna a loony. Frankly, she's more of a friend than you are right now. You're acting like a bully."

It seemed like their friendship was over. Ron stayed in the middle, not wanting to make things awkward, but Harry refused to listen to her. He completely shunned Hermione, not because of the broom but because of what she said about Luna.

"I forgive her Harry." Luna said calmly to him later.

"But I don't." Harry replied. "You're my friend Luna, and any person who thinks you're loony isn't my friend."

Luna, who he thought of as his little sister, smiled widely and gave him a big hug, which Harry returned.


	10. Astoria Greengrass

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Thanks to my betas Jonathyn and Camille, and I hope everyone enjoys the chapter! I've been a little bogged down with my Physics midterm and Geometry midterm coming up, but I finally finished the chapter! Hope you like it. You'll notice that I borrowed a lot of lines from the actual books in regard to the quidditch game.**

* * *

Harry marched away from Dumbledore's office, enraged. How could Dumbledore not tell him he had a magical guardian? And then, when Harry demanded to know why Dumbledore said it was for his own good. Honestly, he was pretty sure Dumbledore was legally required to tell him these things.

"Dobby." he called, and the diminutive elf popped in, dressed in a unique blend of golden snitch and green serpent fabric.

"Yes Master Harry sir?" the elf asked.

"Can you bring me some parchment and ink please?" he asked.

Dobby brought some, and Harry started penning his letter to Gringotts.

 _Dear Ragnok,_

 _May your enemies blood flow and your gold flow with it. I was wondering how I would change my magical guardian, sir. I recently discovered that Dumbledore is my magical guardian, but he has been lax in his duties. If possible I would like to change my magical guardian, but am unable to discover the legal books for it._

 _May your gold flow,_

 _Harry James Potter Black Slytherin Gryffindor Hufflepuff Ravenclaw Emrys LeFay_

"You were right to do that." Ginny soothed him later, when Harry was feeling a little guilty. "Did you know the school is supposed to have dark object wards that would have detected the diary on me?"

"What?" Harry asked. "Do you mean that Dumbledore could have taken the diary?"

"She means that he knew about the diary." Lyra stated grimly. "He knew, but let the Chamber open, and Ginny suffer."

"But he's the headmaster?" Harry protested, trying to wrap his head around the idea. "He couldn't be evil!"

"Not evil, but manipulative. He has an end goal, and he will use us to reach it." Draco said.

Harry sat down on a beanbag, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"It's alright." Susan said, sitting next to him. "It took me a while to understand it too."

Harry let out a sigh. "Let's just go. I want to know when I'll get my Firebolt back."

Unfortunately, McGonagall refused to give him the broom still, and Dumbledore was doing nothing. Classes had started again. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.

Patronus lessons were going well. Harry had managed to produce a solid shield, so Flitwick had found a boggart for them to test it on.

"Ready Harry?" Professor Flitwick asked.

Harry would be the only person testing against a boggart that class, while Luna, Drake, and Lyra would try another time.

"Ready Harry?" Flitwick asked.

"Yeah." he nodded, determined.

Professor Flitwick slowly pulled open the lid of the chest. A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him -

"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat -"

White fog obscured his senses...big, blurred shapes were moving around him...then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking -

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room - a door bursting open - a cackle of high- pitched laughter -

"Harry! Harry...wake up..."

Harry woke up to Lyra shaking his shoulders desperately, while Flitwick pulled out some chocolate.

"Here." he told Harry, handing him a giant slab of Honeydukes Nutty Mallow Chocolate.

"Thanks." Harry croaked, taking the bar and sitting up.

"Are you sure you want to try again Mr Potter?" the professor asked.

"Yes." Harry shook his head vigorously. "At least once more."

"What did you hear this time?" Draco asked.

"My dad." Harry said softly. "It's the first time."

"They loved you." Luna said calmly. "Don't blame yourself."

Harry flushed pink as he realized that it was exactly what he was doing: if it hadn't been for him they wouldn't have died.

"Ready?" Professor Flitwick asked again.

Harry gave a nod, and he pulled the lid open. The Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark -

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The screaming inside Harry's head had started again - except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio - softer and louder and softer again...and he could still see the Dementor...it had halted...and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet - though for how much longer, he wasn't sure… he concentrated harder and his shield became more solid, the screaming dulling…

"RIDDIKULUS!" Professor Flitwick shouted, pushing the dementor back into the chest. "Well done Mr Potter!" he praised, handing Harry a Chocolate Frog.

"Awesome mate!" Draco cheered.

"Are you alright?" Lyra asked, her silver eyes full of concern.

"I'm fine." Harry reassured her, taking her hand and pulling himself up.

"That's all for today Harry." Professor Flitwick told him. "We'll try again in two weeks."

"How'd it go mate?" Dean asked as he painted the moonlight, though Seamus was doing his best to distract him.

"Pretty well." Harry shrugged. "I managed to create a shield, though I still couldn't properly repel the dementor."

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Slytherin too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Flitwick's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework. Even so, he was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.

Harry and Hermione's feud was still ongoing, and Harry's trust in the headmaster was also withering away.

"Honestly Harry, how are you so good?" Seamus asked as his exploding snap cards combusted yet again.

Before he could respond Wood came in. "Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She - er - got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me...you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it..." He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"...I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick...you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"No." Harry replied firmly. "I'm getting my broom back."

On the other hand, his letter back from Gringotts had come with Hedwig.

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _By neglecting his duties as your magical guardian Dumbledore has allowed for you to be able to pick a new one. We at Gringotts have enclosed the forms for you to sign, but you will require another guardian first._

 _May the blood of your enemies and your gold flow plentifully._

 _Ragnok, Head of Gringotts_

Harry was unable to find any person to become his new magical guardian, so he had put the papers away. January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Dean and Seamus standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.

"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Lupin believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

To make matters even worse, Harry's anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.

"You have to let go." Luna told him, as she taught him how to meditate.

The trick to all magic, she said, was to feel the magic. It was all about intent. He had to be able to feel the magic, to feel it coursing through his veins. Of course, Harry had a lot of trouble with that, so he wasn't doing very well. Even Ginny was doing better than him, and her meditation had gotten to a point where she had pushed her memories of the Chamber to the back of her mind.

After one patronus practice that went better than usual Harry was walking up the stairs absentmindedly when he bumped into Professor McGonagall.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"

"Sorry, Professor -"

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all - you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter..."

Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever. He honestly didn't know if he would get it back.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter - do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."

"You got it back!" Ginny screamed when he entered the common room with it.

Harry saw Hermione in a corner and went up to her. "See?" he told her. "It was completely fine. I trust Luna for a reason."

"But it could have been jinxed!" she defended herself.

"But it wasn't." he reminded her. "Like Luna said."

"Why do you trust her so much?" she cried out in frustration. "What did she do to you?"

Harry immediately closed himself off. "She's my friend." he replied coldly. "I trust my friends."

On that note he left the room with his broom and with his other Quidditch friends.

"Come on Harry!" Fred and George cheered.

"It's a Firebolt!" Lee whooped. "Come on! Gryffindor is going to crush this year!"

Harry shot off from the ground like a rocket, the wind pressing at his face. He gave out a delighted scream; the broom spun around at the lightest touch, as though it responded to his thoughts rather than his touch. Fingering the golden lettering on it's handle, he leaned down as he attempted a move that he had read about in his books: the Wronski Feint.

Harry pressed down on his broom, the cold, green grass getting closer, and when he was centimeters from the ground he pulled up with all his strength. Harry created a funnel in the grass as she shot across the field, and he grinned happily before dismounting.

"Awesome." Dean and Seamus breathed.

"You just attempted a professional level Wronski Feint." Draco muttered, having arrived on the field.

"He completed a professional level Wronski Feint." Ginny corrected him.

"Anyone want a turn?" Harry asked with a smirk, prompting a rush towards him. Well, mostly the broom.

The entire group trekked back to the castle hours later, deliriously happy and tired.

"Best Broom Ever." Blaise decided.

And it was. The next Quidditch practice went beautifully- it was as though the entire team was inspired by the Firebolt. Harry himself spent the entire practice pushing himself, flying loops and distraction for the entire team. So inspired were they that Wood found no faults in the entire team at the end of the practice, which as George said, was a first.

"We are going to crush you guys!" Fred roared to their Slytherin friends.

"Just because one person on your team owns a top-quality broom doesn't mean the entire team is good." Lyra sniffed.

"Yeah, but it inspires us, and Lee said he'd advertise it as distraction."

"That's cheating." Daphne accused, her eyes narrowed.

"Can you really say you wouldn't have done the same if you could?" Astoria smirked with a raised brow.

"It's just a game." Hannah rolled her eyes. "I get that you guys are competitive, but bribery is taking it to a new level."

"Oh my poor heart breaks at your words!" Harry said, clutching his heart and dramatically stumbling around the room, much to it's occupants amusement.

"You're incorrigible." Susan laughed.

"Why thank you!" Harry smirked, cheekily tipping a non-existent hat to her.

"Ok but really?" Dean asked. "How is patronus work going?"

"Meah." Harry shrugged.

"The wrackspurts are crowding your head." Luna stated. "You aren't able to concentrate."

"Ok." Blaise said, breaking the silence that had followed Luna's statement. "Chess?"

Harry gave his friend a grin before sitting down with the chess set that he had gotten from Blaise for Christmas; it had black quartz pieces with emeralds on the eyes, and sapphires on the king and queen's crowns. The board was made of marble.

The game came the next day, and Harry got ready for the game with a large grin on his face. He had woken up early that morning and polished his broom even though it was perfect, before eating a big breakfast.

"Ready Harry?" Fred asked with a grin.

"Sure you'll be able to beat the lovely Cho Chang?"

"It's not like I even know her." Harry reminded them.

"Yeah, but she could distract you." George smirked.

"With her long hair." Fred fake swooned.

"With her lovely eyes." George smirked wickedly.

Harry shot two stinging jinxes at them with a hiss. With identical yelps the two jumped into the air, sending glares at Harry, who just smirked. At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Harry, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Harry took off his black school robes, removed his wand from his pocket, and stuck it inside the T-shirt he was going to wear under his Quidditch robes. He only hoped he wouldn't need it. He wondered suddenly whether Professor Flitwick was in the crowd, watching.

"You know what we've got to do," said Wood as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. just - just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"

They walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Harry noticed that Cho Chang was the only girl on their team. Harry couldn't help noticing, nervous as he was, that she looked scared just like him.,

"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain.

"Mount your brooms ... on my whistle ... three - two - one -"

Harry kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship -"

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor - just giving a bit of background information - the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and -"

"Jordan!"

Harry gave a laugh, before running a lap of the field.

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal..."

Harry streaked past Katie in the opposite direction, gazing around for a glint of gold and noticing that Chang was tailing him closely. Apparently she had a new tactic- she kept cutting across him, forcing him to change direction.

"Show her your acceleration, Harry!" Fred yelled as he whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Alicia.

Harry urged the Firebolt forward as they rounded the Slytherin goal posts and Chang fell behind. Just as Katie succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, he saw it - the Snitch was close to the ground, flitting near one of the barriers.

Harry dived; Chang saw what he was doing and tore after him - Harry was speeding up, excitement flooding him; dives were his specialty, he was ten feet away -

Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.

"Damn it." he cursed, flying up.

There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.

"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to ten, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn - Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision - balance is really noticeable in these long -"

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Harry laughed even harder. McGonagall had been really short with Lee ever since the catnip prank. Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only forty points ahead - if Chang got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically - a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings - the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post...

Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead - but just then, Chang appeared out of thin air, blocking him - Harry swerved to avoid collision, but the Snitch had vanished again. Harry turned his Firebolt upward and was soon twenty feet above the game. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cho following him… he gave a large smirk… if he wanted a chase Harry would give him a chase.

He dived again, and Chang, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; he hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more, and then saw it, for the third time - the Snitch was glittering way above the field at the Ravenclaw end.

He accelerated; so, many feet below, did Chang. Harry was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second - then -

"Augh!" she yelled.

Distracted, Harry looked down.

Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at him.

He didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"

Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. He knew it had shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; his mind still miraculously clear, he looked ahead - he was nearly there. He stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on him; next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. Down below he could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.

"That's my boy!" Wood kept yelling. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie had all kissed Harry; Fred had him in a grip so tight Harry felt as though his head would come off. In complete disarray, the team managed to make its way back to the ground. Harry got off his broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Dean and Seamus in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.

"Yes!" Ginny yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me -"

"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

"That was quite some Patronus," said a voice in Harry's ear.

Harry turned around to see Professor Flitwick, who looked both shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they - er - weren't Dementors," said Professor Lupin. "Come and see - "

He led Harry out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the field.

"You gave Mr. Nott quite a fright," said Flitwick.

Harry stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Parkinson had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Lyra.

"You idiots!" she was screeching, her wand pointed at Theo Nott, who looked terrified. "You no good damn bastards! What were you thinking!"

"Why do you care?" Nott spoke up. "It's just stupid Potter."

Lyra gave out a hiss and lunged forward, punching him in the nose. Immediately Blaise and Daphne came in, pulling her back. She was hissing expletives at Nott, who clutched his bloody nose. Then Professor McGonagall swooped onto the scene.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Lyra doubled up with angry laughter as they watched Nott fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.

"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry, and feeling happier than he had in ages, he and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred muttered in Harry's ear.

* * *

Sirius Black had broken into Gryffindor Tower with a knife. Harry was left wondering how the hell it could have happened. Neville had apparently left the passwords on a piece of paper that Black had stolen, and used to get in. The idiot Sir Cadogan had been replaced with the Fat Lady, though she was guarded by trolls.

Harry had said nothing when it came to Neville's password paper losing, but he personally thought that Neville should have been more careful. There were many charms to make sure objects didn't stray from a person.

Ron had called Neville an idiot to his face, and Hermione had just expressed her disapproval through pursed lips. At this point Neville was pretty alone in the house, and though Dean and Seamus had expressed sympathy for the chubby boy he had told them off, saying that he didn't want sympathy.

Harry thought it was kind of dumb to reject people trying to be nice, but he didn't comment, preferring to work on homework, the patronus charm, and his duelling. He had started practice duelling with Professor Flitwick every week, and even though he never managed to land a hit on the pint-sized professor, he was improving.

Ron, on the other hand, had become an instant celebrity since he had been the person to find Black standing over him with a knife. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

"... I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft...I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down...I rolled over...and I saw him standing over me...like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair...holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches...and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered.

"Why, though?" Ron added to Harry as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run?"

Harry had been wondering the same thing. Why had Black, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry? Black had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep.

"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole...then he would've met the teachers..."

Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast - a Howler.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once - Ron had got one from his mother the year before.

"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.

Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall - Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family. Harry opened his own letter.

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN._

 _Cheers,_

 _Hagrid_

"He probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ron.

So at six o'clock that afternoon, Harry and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.

Hagrid was already waiting for them.

"All right, Hagrid!" said Ron. "S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"

"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.

"Oh," said Ron, looking slightly put out. Harry stifled a laugh at his obvious disappointment.

Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns but they knew better than to accept; they had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.

"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two," said Hagrid, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.

"What?" said Harry.

"Hermione," said Hagrid.

"What about her?" said Ron.

"She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, and yeh still aren'."

Harry immediately closed off. "Frankly, Hagrid," he started, "Hermione dug her own grave. I would take her back as a friend if she apologized to Luna but she still hasn't."

"Luna?" Hagrid asked. "Er, who?"

"Luna Lovegood." Harry reiterated. "Hermione called her loony and said that her word couldn't be trusted because she was mad. Luna's my friend, and until Hermione apologizes I want nothing to do with her."

On that note Harry left the cabin with a thanks to Hagrid for his hospitality. Back in the classroom Luna sat with him on the ground, looking at the stars. Harry had found the charm used on the Great Hall ceiling in a book and enchanted their ceiling to look like it too.

"You need to forgive her." Luna advised him. "Your heart is the most precious thing you have. Don't lose it."

* * *

"Hi!" Lyra bounced in cheerfully.

"Hey Lyra." Draco grinned at her, reclined from where he was in Susan's lap and reading a book.

"Ready for Hogsmeade?" she asked.

"Definitely." Hannah grinned, looking up from where she and Susan were practicing Healing spells on each other.

"I heard they got a new candy in stock." Draco said eagerly.

"You and your sweet tooth." Daphne chuckled.

"It's not that big." Draco defended himself.

"No, it's huge." Harry stated dryly.

"That's what she said." Fred and George jeered, making Harry wish he had never introduced the two mischief makers to muggle jokes.

"Those stupid jokes." Susan rolled her eyes.

"Come on." Lee told them. "We should get to Hogsmeade. Ginny's already gone ahead and has an idea for a new prank."

Harry perked up at that. "What's it about?" he asked.

"Cows." Lee smirked deviously. "She wants to dump a cow in the Ravenclaw Tower, and give it flatulence. Not just any cow, a pregnant cow. Once who is minutes from giving birth."

At hearing this Daphne choked on her pumpkin juice and started spluttering incoherently. Seeing the ice princess so confused had Harry laughing his head off.

Hogsmeade was excellent; Honeydukes had put a new candy called Crawling Gommies in, and if one didn't bite the Gommy in a few seconds it would start crawling down their throat. Harry took great pleasure in watching Draco suck one down his throat with a choked expression.

"How are we supposed to get a cow though?" Harry asked Ginny quizzically as they walked the countryside with Fred, George, and Lee.

"I don't know how-" she paused, listening to a rustling.

"Quick, under the cloak!" Fred hissed, and Ginny dove in just as the rustling gained a new volume.

It was a big black dog.

"The Grim!" George yelped.

"If it was the Grim we'd be dead." Harry laughed, before inching towards the dog. "Hey boy. I'm Harry Potter, what's your name?"

"Dogs can't talk genius." Ginny quipped as she came out from under the cloak. Much to her surprise the dog let out a yelp of surprise.

"You scared him." Harry pouted. "Don't scare him!"

"You need to give him a name." Fred stated thoughtfully.

"Hmm…" Harry thought. "How about Snuffles?"

"WHAT?" George looked offended. "You're the son of the most famous Prongs Harry! You can't be badass with a dog named Snuffles!"

"Padfoot." Lee pointed out. "Padfoot sounds like a dog's name, and it's the name of one of the marauders."

"Yeah, the one who cusses a lot on the map." Fred snorted.

"Padfoot." Harry declared, petting the scruffy black dog. "I like it, but I already have Hedwig. I don't think I'd be able to keep him."

"We could take him for a walk." Lee said. "Just for this afternoon."

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "Now Ginny, what were you saying about cows?"

"I was saying that even if we manage to sneak a pregnant cow into Ravenclaw Tower there's still the matter of finding a pregnant cow."

Padfoot let out a doglike bark of laughter, dispelling the myth that dogs couldn't laugh.

"Is he laughing?" Fred asked stunned.

"Apparently." George smirked. "Think he can understand us?"

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter!" Harry bent down to the dog, ignoring Ginny's 'You already said that'. "I'm in Gryffindor, and these are my friends Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley and Lee Jordan. We're working on a prank. Fred and George are the best pranksters at Hogwarts except for the marauders."

Padfoot let out a bark, and with a sad look in his grey eyes he bounded off.

"Weird dog." Lee commented. "So, back to the cow…"

* * *

Harry's charms lesson on Cheering Charms went extremely well, and by the time it was over he was in an excellent mood.

"What's for lunch?" Harry asked with a broad grin.

"D'ya know where Hermione is?" Ron asked. "She's missing."

"Check the tower." Harry shrugged.

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're -"

"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker. But Harry doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as he did.

"We're going to win." Lyra commented idly as they sat together on the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars.

"No way." Harry scoffed. "I'll crush Draco."

"Yeah, but we have better brooms overall, and our beaters are better."

Harry raised his eyebrow. "Fred and George are like human bludgers. Wanna bet?"

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears. Draco had apologized about the incident, but it had started a prank war between the two seekers.

Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.

Him and Draco's prank war had gotten worse and worse until both of them ended up in the hospital ing after transforming each other into vapory ghost like things and were unable to move.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.

There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with Dean, Ginny, and Seamus, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time he did, he had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of his stomach.

"You're going to be fine," Ginny told him, though she looked positively terrified.

"You've got a Firebolt!" said Dean.

"Yeah ..." said Harry, his stomach writhing.

It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

Harry woke up in the middle of the night from nerves, his stomach shaking. He was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as he could, he got out of his four-poster and went to pour himself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.

The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.

Harry set down his goblet and was about to turn back to his bed when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.

Harry dashed to his bedside table, snatched up his glasses, and put them on, then hurried back to the window. It couldn't be Padfoot- where had he come from?

He peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now...It wasn't the black dog at all ... it was a cat ... Harry clutched the window ledge in relief as he recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks...

Or was it only Crookshanks? Harry squinted, pressing his nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. Harry was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.

And just then, it emerged - a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side. Harry stared. He hadn't seen the black dog in a very long time, and Padfoot seemed to be good friends with Crookshanks.

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harry couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Harry noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.

Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the Harry ate he saw Draco approaching the table. All of their hands went to their wands, but Harry waved them away. The hall was silent.

"May the best seeker win." Draco said, holding out his hand to shake. With a challenging grin Harry shook his hand and echoed the blonde's words.

As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.

"Okay - no wind to speak of - sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it - ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff -"

Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.

"Locker rooms," said Wood tersely.

None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harry wondered if they were feeling like he was: as though he'd eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go -"

They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP" Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years -"

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end. Harry laughed as his dark friend gave them all a occamy-like shriek to shut them up. Harry decided that his friends animagus was probably an occamy. He introduced the Slytherin team, and soon the teams rocketed into the air.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no - Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field - WHAM! - nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by - Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina - nice swerve around Lyra Malfoy- duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight

"OUCH!"

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Lyra fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Lyra waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass - very difficult indeed - YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Relieved, Harry zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure he caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that he hold Draco off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up -

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession - no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field - THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING -"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way -"

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Harry felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch - it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts - but he mustn't catch it yet - and if Draco saw it -

Faking a look of sudden concentration, Harry pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end - it worked. Malfoy went haring after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there...

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again...

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.

Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised - He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle - Chaser Malfoy alongside her - poke him in the eye, Angelina! - it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke - oh no - Malfoy in possession, Malfoy flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save -!"

But she had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession -"

It was turning into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The Snitch had disappeared again. Draco was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead -

Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself -

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal - seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse - Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Harry could almost feel hundreds of eyes following him as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Draco speeding along behind him.

And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.

Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, a bat slammed into his shoulder and Harry was pushed out of the play, his arm hanging limply near his broom. Harry estimated that it was at least broken if not dislocated.

Horrified, he looked around. Bole had whammed something straight at him while Fred and George were distracted.

"You -"

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Bole was grabbing his bat from the ground where he had thrown in at Harry.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B -"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Bole's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal - Malfoy scores -" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."

Harry was now marking Draco so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Harry wasn't going to let him anywhere near the Snitch...

"Get out of it, Harry!" he yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper - they were all going to block her - Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!"

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.

And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Draco was diving, a look of triumph on his face - there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer -

Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Draco was miles ahead -

"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Draco- Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Derrick sent a Bludger at him - he was at Draco's ankles - he was level -

Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Draco's arm out of the way and -

"YES!"

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Angelina's, Alicia's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harry had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, he saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes - "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"

There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

"Congratulations." Lyra told him, her silver eyes sparkling as she dismounted. "You played well." and then she kissed him on the cheek before going off with the rest of the team.

Harry felt his cheek burn, and a grin that had nothing to do with winning the cup stretched across his face. If only there had been a Dementor around...As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.


	11. Peter Pettigrew

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! I finally got an update in. I haven't had much time to write, what with math midterms and science finals and Thanksgiving, but I finally got it in. Thank Jonathyn and Camille like always, and I recommend reading A Red-Headed Muggle Stepchild, by mugglesftw**

* * *

Harry's euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But they couldn't. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Percy hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Percy was Hermione.

Harry's anger at Hermione had still not abated, but it had simmered down into a pact where he just ignored her. Hermione refused to apologize for her comments about Luna still, but their constant fights had disappeared.

Harry's potions exam went well since Lyra had taken to teaching him the basics of potions; his Confusing Concoction went well. Things had been awkward for him in regards to Lyra after the Quidditch Match but she acted like everything was normal, so Harry followed her lead.

The other exams also went well: Harry aced Care of Magical Creatures, and his Ancient Runes exam went well.

"Every single rune!" Susan complained later after the exam. "We were tested on every single rune!"

"It wasn't that bad." Harry shrugged. "It was fun creating the bag of runes in the project anyway, and we had to memorize all the runes to create them."

Susan gave a large grin. "What will the Dursley's think? You can do magic there after all."

"I was able to to do it anyway." Harry shrugged. "But now I don't need Dobby's wards protecting me." he gave a wicked grin.

"Plus you've added so many spells to your repertoire." Lyra pointed out.

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "If it weren't for Sirius Black it would be perfect."

"Lyra they said yes!" Draco bounced down the empty hall.

Lyra let out a girly shriek that kind-of scared Harry, before abruptly stopping.

"Who said yes?" Harry asked curiously.

"Mum and dad!" she laughed. "They said that you could come over to our place after a month at your relatives."

Harry paled. He knew that Lucius had slipped the diary to Ginny, and he didn't know what to do. He had never commented on it because Ginny had talked it through with Lyra, but he never did.

"Oh." he replied weakly.

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked, picking up on Harry's hesitation.

"Well." Harry started, wincing as recognition dawned on Draco's face. "Didn't your dad, you know, drop the diary in-" he was cut off.

Lyra was furious as she hissed, "Father didn't know the diary was cursed you prat. I can't believe," her voice raised and the pitch was higher, "I can't believe you think THAT FATHER WOULD ACTUALLY DO THAT ON PURPOSE!"

Harry winced as she stormed away, her hair practically sparking with anger.

"You brought that on yourself mate." Draco said grimly, not even bothering to help him up from where Harry had fallen before he stalked away.

Harry just got up and loped back to the common room, his sadness at breaking his friendships following him like a dark cloud. Ginny and the rest weren't helping either. Ginny thought he was being dumb, and Blaise was made that Harry had put Draco in such a bad mood.

That evening Harry went up to the Astronomy Tower and sat next to Lyra where she looked out at the sky in silence.

"I'm sorry." he started, breaking the oppressive silence.

"I know." she sighed. "But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. I thought you trusted me Harry."

"I do." Harry promised. "I was just a little wary."

"That's the point." she told him. "I didn't think you would be so scared."

"I'm really sorry." he said. "After thinking I actually would love to come to your house. Your parents seem nice."

Lyra didn't answer, and instead rested her head on his shoulder as they looked at the stars.

"There." Harry said softly, pointing at a star in the sky. "That's Lyra. The brightest star in the sky."

"I thought it was Sirius?" she quipped.

Harry gave her an amused look before they sat in silence, eventually drifting to sleep.

* * *

Harry was wishing that Ron and Hermione didn't fight so much. He had been talking with Ron when Crookshanks had come and scratched at Scabbers, before Hermione came running in for her cat.

"Give it up Ronald!" she screeched, while Ron held his rat away.

"No Mione!" he bellowed back. "Your cat is a menace!"

"My cat is fine!" she hissed.

Before Ron could say more Harry saw Padfoot behind him, ready to lunge, and he acted on instinct. Harry tackled Ron down, grabbing Scabbers and stuffing it in his pocket. "Go!" he bellowed as the dog dragged him into a hole in the Whomping Willow.

Harry was dragged by Padfoot through the hall. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by him being dragged upstairs.

They reached the dark landing, and Harry was dragged into a room. On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight.

Harry let out a groan of pain and flicked his wand out of his wand holster. "Episkey."he muttered, letting out a pained scream as his bone snapped in place. Ignoring his surroundings he wrapped his leg. "Ferrula."

Suddenly, Harry heard a sound behind him and he wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.

A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked, pointing a wand at them.

"Protego!" Harry snapped on reflex, his wand twitching in his hand. Black let out a filthy grin.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely.

His voice sounded as though he had long since lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything much easier..."

Harry glared at him, a boiling hate erupting in his chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life he wanted to use his wand not to defend himself, but to attack...to kill. "You're an animagus." he snarled instead.

"You're more like Lily than you think." Black grinned savagely. "Your dad wouldn't have guessed that."

Before Harry could retort he heard footsteps and Lyra, Draco, and Luna barrelled in. "Expelliarmus!" Lyra screeched, Black's stolen wand shooting into her hand.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Draco said fiercely.

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.

"You're a Malfoy." he said quietly.

"I think Azkaban really damaged your brain." Draco spat back.

"What is a Gryffindor doing with Malfoys?" Black asked instead.

"They're friends." Harry snarled at him. "Not that you'd understand that, you traitor."

"Never thought I'd see the day a lion hung out with snakes." Black commented.

Before anyone could respond Scabbers started twitching around in his pocket. When the rat bit him Harry lost his temper. "Stupefy!" he exclaimed, stunning the yellow rat.

"Step aside kids." Black commanded.

"You won't kill us." Luna stated calmly.

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Draco, who was restraining him. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew...What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Lyra snapped. "Don't tease the psychotic mass-murderer!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Draco's restraint and lunged forward -

His wand was out, Harry lunging at Black, his wand letting out a curse that bounced onto the ground next to Black harmlessly… But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long -"

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.

Then he saw Lyra's foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Draco had shot out an Incarcerous that missed Black and wrapped the ground next to him in ropes.

Harry fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling across the floor; he threw himself toward it but

"Argh!"

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry's arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry's wand -

"NO YOU DON'T!" roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned -

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Draco and Lyra. Luna was sitting on a chair, her wand pointed at Black.

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black's heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black's chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't...You don't understand..."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum...trying to stop Voldemort killing me...and you did that...you did it..."

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto Black's chest and settled himself there, right over Black's heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black's robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes.

Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black...If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn't Harry's business... If Black wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Crookshanks than for Harry's parents...

Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Black. He had to kill Black. This was his chance...

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Draco's ragged breathing came from near the bed; Lyra was quite silent.

And then came a new sound -

Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor - someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE - SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!"

Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively - Do it now! said a voice in his head - but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn't done it.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Fred, George, and Ginny came hurtling into the room, their faces bloodless, their wand raised and ready. Their eyes flickered over Draco, his wand out, to Lyra, her bruised eye still healing, to Luna, her wand pointed serenely at Black, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny shouted.

Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand (he was caught off guard); so did Draco, Luna, and Lyra's. Ginny caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn't done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the Dementors.

"What the hell are you doing Ginny?" Draco yelped.

Then Fred spoke, in a very tense voice, so unlike his own. "We saw you guys on the Map, but you weren't alone."

"You saw Wormtail." Black gave a raspy laugh.

"How does he know about the Marauders?" Lyra asked.

"We made the map." Black gave a laugh again. "I was Padfoot, you see. James was Prongs, Remus was Moony, and Peter was Wormtail."

"James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew." George stated quietly. "All dead because of you."

"No." Luna shook her head. "Because of Wormtail."

Harry spun around. "What?" he asked her. Luna didn't respond, choosing to stare at him silently, her pale eyes glowing.

"You killed Pettigrew!" Harry scoffed in disgust at Black.

Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Harry's pocket. Mystified, Harry glanced around and pulled Scabbers out of his pocket.

"What does Scabbers have to do with anything?" Ginny asked.

Black was unable to answer, because in his struggling he had caused one of the ropes to maneuver around his groin area, and was wincing in pain. Luna silently got up and unbound him, helping him to his feet.

"Are you alright Mr Black?" Luna asked him dreamily.

"Yes thank you." Black replied, as though having a conversation with a second year while being threatened and on the run was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"Luna what are you doing?" Harry asked lowly. "I love you like a sister but there is a line, and that man is the reason I'm an orphan."

"No he's not." Luna replied calmly. "Would you like to explain Mr Black?" she asked him.

"Sirius please." Black grinned. "Mr Black is my father."

"Well?" Lyra demanded. "Hurry up, because I just learned about a hex that will pickle your bits for me."

All the men in the shack winced.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" Black said evenly.

"What?" said Harry. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Luna. "He is the key to his rise, and to the beginning of the end."

Harry hesitated, and then held Scabbers by his tail in front of Black. Scabbers chose that moment to wake up, and Harry promptly stunned him again.

Black moved closer to him. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers. Harry recoiled from the main, still not trusting him completely. He noticed something and backed away, glaring at the rat vehemently.

"Why are you glaring at Scabbers?" Fred asked.

"Lover's tiff?" George teased, having to add some levity to the situation.

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean - of course he's a rat -"

"No, he's not," said Black quietly. "He's a wizard. An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ginny voiced what Harry was thinking.

"You're mental."

"Ridiculous!" said Lyra faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me...not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ginny gave a shriek and blasted him away from them.

"Stop it." Luna said sharply, surprising them all. Luna was floaty and and a princess with the wisdom of one who had lived for a thousand years, but they had never seen her this way- all pointed edges and clipped letters, like a queen. "You must explain."

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw get off the ground.

"If not for yourself then for Harry." Luna told him, her voice still pointed and edged, as though one would bleed if they touched her. "You owe it to him."

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Harry's hand, dangling as though he was dead.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat.

"Tell them." Luna prompted him.

"It all starts with Moony's bite." Black explained, pacing around the shack having freed himself. "He was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when he was 4, but was still allowed to go to Hogwarts. We were his best friends, and by this third year we found out that he was a werewolf. James, Peter, and I wanted to help him, and after research we decided to become Animagi."

"Damn." Draco whistled. "Animagi in third year."

"We accomplished it by 5th." Black gave a dark smile. "James was a stag, hence the nickname Prongs. I was a huge black dog, hence the name Padfoot. Peter was a rat, hence the name Wormtail. For the first time ever Moony was free, and able to be with us."

"But that's impossible." Lyra said.

"Why?" Black questioned.

"Because... because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework - the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things...and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

"Damn Lyra." Draco laughed. "You put so much effort into your homework."

Draco broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then she strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there..."

"This place is haunted!" said Fred.

"It's not,' said Black, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted...The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by Moony. The Whomping Willow was planted just for him- to stop others from entering the shack when he transformed."

"Learn something new every day." George hummed.

"His transformations were terrible." Black stated, his eyes dark. It was painful to hear him transform, and he would bite and scratch himself since he had no other option. But then the three of us joined him, and for once he had playmates. We couldn't accompany him as humans, so we did it as animals. Peter would touch the knot that freezes the tree as the smallest. Prongs and I were the biggest, and could keep him in control."

"Hurry up." Ginny snapped.

"Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames."

Lyra was appalled. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"Moony worried about the same thing." Sirius gave a dark grin. "But it never happened."

"Yes it did." Draco scoffed. "Professor Snape was the victim?"

"Professor?" Black sneered. "Are you telling me Snivellus is a teacher?"

"And my godfather." Lyra snapped. "Frankly, all I can see you as is a bully."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Snape was very interested in where the four of us went every month." Black told them. "We hated each other, and one day he said something incredibly rude. I told him how to get into the Willow, and Moony attacked him. James saved Snape at his own risk."

"He could have died because of you!" Harry exclaimed.

"Why would you care?" Black asked. "It's just Snivellus."

"Yeah, well right now he's a damn bit better than you!" Harry sneered.

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Ginny slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind them.

Severus Snape was slowly becoming visible after a disillusionment charm, his wand pointed straight at Black.

Ginny screamed. Black tripped in shock before getting back up. Harry felt a little relieved there was another teacher, and also worried that Snape would do something irrational.

"I knew you'd be here Black." Snape said breathlessly. "When I couldn't find my godchildren I went searching, and lo and behold I found the Miss Greengrasses and Mr Zabini hovering over a map that, to my surprise, showed Black and my godchildren along with their Gryffindor compatriotes in the Shack."

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… his precious golden boy with a murderer."

"Snape…" Black started, before being interrupted.

Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

"Professor." Lyra started, stepping forward.

"Quiet Lyra."

"Sir…" Draco tried again, only to be ignored.

"But we really think that he's innocent!" Draco protested.

"Quiet Draco!" Snape snapped, before Lyra lost her temper.

"Hey!" she snapped, stepping forward with her wand. "I am your god daughter! Look at me! He was telling us a story before you so kindly interrupted, and we would appreciate it if he could continue!"

Sparks shot from the end of her wand, and Snape, surprised, stepped back.

"Lyra…" he started.

"No." she cut him off. "You were willing to see him die even though there is proof that he is innocent."

"I nearly died because of him." Snape hissed.

What little color there was in Black's face left it.

"And?" Harry said, stepping forward. "You need to stop holding grudges Professor."

Snape glared at him before putting his wand away and sitting down next to Crookshanks. "5 minutes Black." he stated curtly.

"Can I have Peter?" Black asked.

"Come off it," Harry said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean..." He looked up at the Twins for support, "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat - there are millions of rats - how's he supposed to know which one he is after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"  
"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," said Luna, turning to Black and frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Harry was momentarily surprised that Luna didn't know the answer, and she gave him a small smile. "The Nargles can't tell me everything Harry."

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Professor Snape asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page on this boy's shoulder...I knew him at once...how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts...to where Harry was..."

"Our minister is an imbecile." Lyra sniffed.

"He's missing a finger." Harry whispered.

"Smart…" Fred noted.

"But unnoticeable." George concluded.

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down into the sewer with the other rats..."

"The biggest bit they found of Pettigrew was his finger." Snape pointed out.

"Scabbers might have been scared because of Crookshanks." Harry pointed out, still unwilling to believe that the man he has spent months hating might be innocent.

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me...Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" breathed Ginny.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't...so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me...As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table..."

Harry's brain seemed to be sagging under the weight of what he was hearing. It was absurd...and yet…

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it." croaked Black. "This cat - Crookshanks, did you call him? - told me Peter had left blood on the sheets...I supposed he bit himself...Well, faking his own death had worked once."

These words jolted Harry to his senses.

"And why did he fake his death?" he said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Black, "Harry-"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Thank you." Snape muttered.

"Harry," said Black hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time you've thought I betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down - but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father - I tracked Peter down -"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over bright.

"Harry...I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me...I'm to blame, I know it...The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies...I realized what Peter must've done...what I'd done..."

His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this," said Luna, and there was the steely note in her voice Harry had never heard before. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Harry, give me the rat."

Mutely, Harry handed Luna the rat.

"What will you do to him?" Fred asked.

"Yeah. Scabbers has been in our family forever. Don't want him dead."

"What will you do to him?" Ginny asked.

"Force him to show himself," said Black. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Black handed Scabbers to Snape, his eyes dark. "I haven't used a wand in years." he gave a rough laugh. "Can you?"

Snape silently took the rat and pulled out his wand. He silently said the incantation, and Harry was shocked.

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly - Fred yelled - the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then -

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Lyra. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said Black pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S-Sirius..." Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friend...my old friend..."

Black's wand arm rose, but Luna seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning took, then turned again to Pettigrew, her voice light and casual.

"Hello Wormtail." she said calmly. "You're scared right now."

"Preposterous!" Pettigrew bluffed, but Harry noticed his eyes kept going to the window.

"No, you're scared." Luna stated. "The Nargles told me. You think that Sirius is going to kill you for what you did."

"I'm innocent!" Pettigrew protested.

"You're not." Black snarled. "You served Voldemort."

Harry sneered as Pettigrew flinched away.  
"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"  
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius -" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter...They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them...I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information...and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter -"

"Don't know...what you're talking about..." said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at them.

"They made me secret keeper!" Pettigrew trilled. "Above you because they trusted me more!"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan...a bluff...Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you...It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but he couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Then why didn't he show himself?" Fred asked. "He's been living in Harry's dorm for years."

"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him..."

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"How did you escape Azkaban?" Draco asked. "I actually want to know."

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me...but it kept me sane and knowing who I am...helped me keep my powers...so when it all became...too much...I could transform in my cell...become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know..." He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions...They could tell that my feelings were less - less human, less complex when I was a dog...but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand..."

"But then I saw Peter in that picture...I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry...perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..."

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

"...ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies...and to deliver the last Potter to them. if he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors..."

"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive..."

"It was as if someone had lit a fire In my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it...It wasn't a happy feeling...it was an obsession...but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog...It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused...I was thin, very thin...thin enough to slip through the bars...I swam as a dog back to the mainland ...I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry..."

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius - it's me...it's Peter...your friend...you wouldn't -"

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.

Pettigrew turned to Snape and Snape sneered.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry...Harry...you look just like your father...just like him..."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed...James would have understood, Harry...he would have shown me mercy..."

Black strode forward and pulled Pettigrew back, dumping him on the ground.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord...you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine ...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me -"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He - he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

"You should have realized that if he didn't kill you I would." Black sneered.

Snape wordlessly handed him the wand and Black glared down at him.

"NO!" Harry yelled, jumping forward.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "But you're innocent. Pettigrew and Veritaserum will mean that you get off scotch free. Kill him now and you'll always be a fugitive."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You - thank you - it's more than I deserve - thank you -"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because - I want Sirius free."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black lowered his wand.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think... think what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does..."

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.  
Silently Snape stepped forward and bound Pettigrew in ropes. With another flick of his wand Pettigrew was floating in midair.

Harry had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lyra, Draco, Snape, and Pettigrew came next. Fred, George, Ginny, and Luna were behind them, while Black and Harry brought up the rear.

"You know what this means?" Black said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes..." said Black. "But I'm also - I don't know if anyone ever told you - I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well... your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black stiffly. "If anything happened to them..."

Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But... well... think about it. Once my name's cleared... if you wanted a... a different home..."

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"What - live with you?" he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd -"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Black turned right around to look at him.

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding, as seen in Harry's picture album.

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because the rest of them climbed up to encounter silent branches.

Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry to pass. At last, all of them were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harry's mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dursleys. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents' best friend... He felt dazed... What would happen when he told the Dursleys he was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television...!

Suddenly Harry saw two dark silhouettes approaching, and as they neared Harry saw that it was Ron and Hermione. When they saw Black they both paled before pulling out their wands. Seeing Harry with Snape and the other Slytherins only added fire to the flame.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, her wand out. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Black, who was unarmed was hit with the curse, and in the fracas Harry saw Pettigrew transform and run away.

"Damn it." he cursed, un-petrifying Black before spinning after Pettigrew.

"I already tried." Lyra told him, appearing next to him. "He's gone."

Harry rounded furiously on Ron and Hermione only to see Fred, George, and Ginny already screaming at them.

"Run," Black whispered suddenly. "Run. Now."

A cold had enveloped them all, and Harry felt the cold stinging of a dementor. Without a second thought he dashed into the forest, pausing to see Black running the other direction in the form of a black dog. Snape, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had gone somewhere, leaving Harry with Luna, Draco, and Lyra.

Harry stopped deep in the forest, panting for breath.

"Harry!" Lyra said. "We have to find Black! He's wandless and weak."

"This way." Luna said, her voice serious as it had been all that evening. They all followed her before the noise of yelping bombarded their ears. They followed the voice, only for the yelping to stop abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why - Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

"Nooo," he moaned. "Nooo... please..."

And then Harry saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them...

"Think of something happy!" Harry yelled, raising his wand, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it -

I'm going to live with my godfather. I'm leaving the Dursleys.

He forced himself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: "Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"

Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him.

"Expecto patronum! Lyra, help me! Expecto patronum!"

"Expecto -" Lyra whispered, "expecto - expecto -"

But she couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harry the group, and were getting closer... Draco and Luna had already fainted.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled, trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A thin wisp of silver escaped his wand and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Harry felt Lyra collapse next to him. He was alone... completely alone...

"Expecto - expecto patronum -"

Harry felt his knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding his eyes. With a huge effort, he fought to remember - Sirius was innocent - innocent - We'll be okay - I'm going to live with him -

"Expecto patronum!" he gasped.

By the feeble light of his formless Patronus, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Harry had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.

"No - no -" Harry gasped. "He's innocent... expecto expecto patronum -"

He could feet them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands - and lowered its hood.

Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth... a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.

A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn't move or speak. He saw one of them move towards Lyra and felt a clench of anger in his gut.

"No." he bit out, feeling a rush in his magic as he tried one last time. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled, concentrating on his friendships and how he would never have to see the Dursley's again.

This time it worked. White mist shot out of his wand and exploded into a shape that pushed the dementors away, but Harry was too tired to care. His wand dropped out of his limp hands and he surrendered to the white fog, having faith in his patronus.


	12. Lucius Malfoy

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hi! I hope you all had a Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy the first chapter of 2018.**

* * *

Harry looked out of his window gloomily, idly petting Hedwig, who sat next to him.

"You're not still moping about that are you?" Ron asked as he came forward.

Harry had forgiven them after much cajoling and pleading, as they two didn't know Sirius was innocent.

"I had a chance to have a family Ron." Harry said quietly instead. "A proper one."

"Come on mate." Dean told him. "We got to get on the train."

"Sure you can't sit with Hermione and I?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Me and Hermione." Harry commented absently as they left for the train. "Hermione and I is used in subjects, but me and Hermione is used in objects."

"Huh?" Ron asked, confused.

"If Hermione and me isn't the subject you use I." Lyra told him icily as she came forward.

She still hadn't forgiven the two Gryffindors for Pettigrew's escape, Sirius's near demise, and their near kissing by the dementors. Ron made a rude gesture at her before walking away.

"Come on." Lyra said, pulling Harry with her. "Luna just got a message from the Nargles."

Harry stiffened before running with her all the way to the express. He knew what a message from the Nargles meant: Luna had a prophecy. They rushed into the carriage only to stop abruptly. Susan had carved runes into the doorway and walls of the cabin to expand it beyond imagination. When once they had been squished in even with expanding charms they could all fit comfortably.

Harry put Hedwig up with the other pets before sprawling himself across one of the seats and plopping his head in Hannah's lap. Hannah laughed and pushed him off, leaving Harry in an awkward position.

"For Merlin's sake." Lyra rolled her eyes. "I'm gone for a few seconds."

"The world needs you to run dear Lyra." Draco swooned dramatically, before giving a wicked smirk as they all chuckled.

"So really, what did the Nargles say? Harry asked.

"It was creepy." Ginny grimaced. "Her eyes went all blank and her voice wasn't hers."

"What did she say?" Harry asked again.

"She basically let out a spiel about how the darkness was approaching, but we were all so freaked out we couldn't catch all the words." Ginny said.

"It's just that we couldn't figure out what the darkness was." Luna said calmly. "I can't even remember giving the prophecy."

"The only darkness I can think of is Voldemort." Harry said grimly.

"But he's dead." Blaise pointed out.

"I fought him in my first year." Harry pointed out. "He lived somehow, and now he's trying to get his body back."

"And Pettigrew is going straight to help him." Daphne said softly.

"Being in Slytherin will be more dangerous." Lyra stated.

"Well it's a good thing you have the entire summer to study up." Fred gave a grin.

They settled down to a game of exploding snap, and soon Harry's robes were singed. Dean had left a while ago to sketch the countryside, while Susan, Ginny, and Hannah were playing with the pets. Fred and George had gone to prank people with Lee, and Blaise was reading.

"What's that knocking?'' Draco asked.

Harry looked out the window to see a tiny fluffy owl holding a letter bumping against the window. With a coo Susan opened the window and let the fluffball in.

"This is an owl?" Blaise asked with a raised brow.

"He's cute." Ginny laughed as the fluffball chirped at Hedwig, who glared stonily at the fluff. Persephone, Lyra's owl was laughing, and Imperius, Draco's owl, was asleep.

"Who is it from?" Seamus asked.

Harry opened it and quickly scanned it. When he saw the name his heart raced in excitement. "It's from Sirius!" he told them. All of them knew that Sirius was innocent.

 _Dear Mini-Prongs (and any of his friends),_

 _I won't tell you where I am for fear of this letter being intercepted, but I can tell you that I will be seeing you very soon. I want to thank you again for listening to me in my time of need. I can't begin to describe the hell that Azkaban was, and if it weren't for you I might be in there at this moment. I would also like to apologize for getting Remus Lupin kicked out, wherever he is. I know that he was one of the best teachers, because we used to be friends as kids. The fact that he was blamed for my escape is completely unfair._

 _-Padfoot_

 _P.S., I thought your friend Ginny might want to keep the owl since her family has lost it's rat_

"Awesome!" Ginny gushed.

"Now you need to name him." George grinned.

"How about Pig?" Fred finished.

"Pig." Ginny looked thoughtful. "I know you meant it was a joke but it actually sounds cool. What do you think of Pigwidgeon?"

"He's a Scops Owl." Daphne stated as she looked up from her book. "I can tell."

"So many different types now." Hannah laughed. "Hedwig is a snowy owl, Imperius is a screech owl, and Persephone is a barn owl."

"Auntie said I could get a cat this summer." Susan gushed. "If my grades were good."

"So you're getting a cat." Blaise concluded. "I'm going to get my ear pierced."

"Cool." Lyra grinned at him.

Harry briefly wondered what he would like like if his ear was pierced before he ignored it. No use being jealous after all.

They hung out a little more before Fred dramaticized Harry's staying at Malfoy Manor.

"Forge, Harry's leaving the nest!"

"Not Harry!" George gasped. "He can't be fleeing the nest!"

"Oh shut it." Harry grumbled as they all laughed.

"You know that you can't come over until July though." Lyra told him. "We're going to Italy with Blaise and mother didn't know that you would stay over or she would have bought you tickets."

"Tickets?" Harry asked.

"We're taking a magical train like the express." she grinned.

"I didn't know the Wizarding World had more trains." Harry stated in awe.

"Some things can't be read Harry." Lyra states sadly.

"Well you'll teach me all of it."

"Hey!" Draco interrupted them. "What about me?"

"You don't matter." Lyra teased, and they all laughed.

Soon they reached the station, and Harry said goodbye to his friends.

"Ready to go boy?" Uncle Vernon asked him nastily.

"Obviously." Harry replied. "And remember, I can do magic."

His uncle had forgotten because he paled slightly before pulling Harry out. The moment they were home Harry took this things out and brought them to his room. It was still expanded thanks to Dobby's work, and Harry grinned. He hadn't contacted the elf in forever.

"Dobby!" he called, and the green elf appeared. He was looking better after Harry's newest shipment of cloth, and wore a bright blue jacket on top of a pink shirt, green pants, and snitch covered socks.

"Master Harry Potter sir!" the diminutive house elf exclaimed.

"Hey Dobby." Harry grinned. "Could you bring some butterbeer?"

He popped out and came back in with the frothy drink. Harry grinned and sat down to think. He rather liked the idea of practicing his potions. Mind made up, he grabbed his potions kit and headed to the kitchen. The Dursleys had gone out for dinner and would be back later, so Harry made himself a sandwich and went up to the potions lab. He wanted to try brewing polyjuice like Hermione did in second year.

* * *

Harry's summer had gone well. The Dursleys had mostly ignored him, and Harry had been content with writing letters, brewing, and practicing spells.

 _Hey Harry,_

 _I got my ear pierced! Mother took me to the same Italian place she got her piercings and I now have a yellow diamond in my ear. I enclosed a picture. How has your summer been? Muggles treating you well?_

 _-Blaise_

 _Hey Blaise,_

 _Wow! I didn't think you'd actually pierce your ear. You look pretty good, and I'm pretty sure the rest would agree. How has your summer been? Italy treating you well? My summer's been decent. I mostly brew, eat, read, practice spells, and write you guys._

 _-Harry_

 _Hi Harry!_

 _How has Pigwidgeon been to you? It took me a while to train him to calm down. He only responds to Pig at this point, and if he gets annoying don't be afraid to smack him softly. He actually volunteered to be the quaffle in a game of quidditch if you'll believe it! Ron says hi, and so do the twins. At this point after Errol I have the only owl in the house (not counting Hermes, Percy's owl) so everyone says hi. The Twins want to know if you pranked the muggles yet, and just in case they had me send you a bag of their newest inventions. They're called Ton-Tongue Toffees, and they make your tongue grow incredibly long._

 _-Ginny (Fred, George, and Ron)_

 _Hey Gin!_

 _How has your summer been? Pig was fine, and the Toffees were amazing. Dudley won't come near ten feet of me now, and the memory is beautiful. I couldn't stop laughing._

 _-Harry_

 _Hey Harry,_

 _Imperius broke his wing thanks to a muggle bird catcher, so Draco and I wrote this letter together. Stupid muggles. Imperius is healing, but Persephone was fine (Thank Merlin!) My summer has been good, and we are coming to pick you from the muggles tomorrow. Remember to pack. Italy was amazing, and I got to spend time at a salon with mother and Blaise's big sister Camila. Draco and I can't wait to see you. Mother has already set out a room in our wing._

 _You have never been to the Manor before so I thought I'd describe it. There are three wings: children, adults, and guests. All of five suite bedrooms with inbuilt bathrooms and walk-in closets. Downstairs we have the drawing room, dining room, family room, living room, and kitchens. Under that is the basement, and under that are the dungeons._

 _We can't wait to see you!_

 _-Lyra and Draco_

Harry closed his black trunk with an idle flick of his wand and looked idly at the letter Lyra sent him. With another flick of his wand he had it levitated silently, one of the only spells he could do silently. Pack? Check. Move Dobby to the Manor? Check. Tell the Dursleys?...

Oops. Harry knew he had forgotten something. Ah well. They would just be surprised. Harry went downstairs with his things and entered the kitchen, where Dudley was watching TV.

"What are you doing here boy?" Vernon sneered.

"I'm going." Harry stated. "My friends will be here in a few minutes and I'm not coming back."

"You invited the freaks here?" Vernon spluttered.

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. "And we're not freaks."

At the moment Lucius Malfoy and Draco popped in by portkey.

"Draco!" Harry grinned, crushing his friend in a hug. He noted that he was a little taller than Draco now, and that the Italian sun had caused his platinum blonde hair to turn a little darker. Draco's face of course, was still pale like always.

"Mr Malfoy." Harry greeted respectfully, nodding his head in inclination.

"Mr Potter." he replied calmly. "Shall we leave?"

Harry took a brief look at the discombobulated Dursley's and grinned. "Let's go." he told them, shrinking his belongings and placing them in his pocket.

Mr Malfoy pulled out a quill and held it out to them. "Ready?" he asked, before they were whisked away.

They landed on Malfoy Manor grounds and Harry was immediately struck by its beauty. Lush green trees were scattered around the garden, and Harry could see a maze of flower hedges to his side. A forest was behind him, and Harry saw that it was denser than the Forbidden Forest, but brighter.

"Damn." Harry breathed. "You're house is wicked Draco."

"I know." Draco stated smugly. "Lyra and mother are in the drawing room."

Harry followed his friends into a mammoth, Victorian manor with arching windows, huge paintings, long hallways, sweeping ceilings. They entered the drawing room, and Harry looked down from the gold and silver chandelier to see a cute girl with blonde hair cut in a pixie cut.

Harry had a moment of confusion before he looked at her face and saw her sparkling grey eyes. "Lyra?" he asked in confusion, wondering why she looked so much better.

"Hi Harry!" Lyra greeted him cheerfully, giving him a hug. Harry hugged her, burying his face in her hair to control his red face.

"You look really good with the new haircut." he complimented her.

"Thanks!" her smile brightened, before she grabbed his hand. "Let me show you your room."

She led him through more hallways and rooms before they stopped in a long hall of rooms. "Here." she said, stopping at a room. "Mine is to your left, and Draco is to your right."

Harry stopped inside the room, his mouth agape. It was huge, with light blue walls and a huge window. Harry vaguely noticed a closet and bathroom with teal stones inset to the walls, but he chose to collapse onto the four poster bed with green sheets, pulling Lyra with him.

"It's amazing." he laughed, his hair wonky.

"Well I'm glad, but can I get up?" Lyra smirked.

"Oh." Harry muttered, his face flaming red. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Just get settled, and we'll get you for supper in a little."

Harry set his things out before going with his friends for supper. Dinner was nice, and Harry had a healthy conversation with his friends.

"So you like the haircut?" Lyra asked.

"It looks awesome." Harry grinned.

"Is the meal good?" Mrs Malfoy asked delicately.

"Yeah." Harry nodded. "It's great Mrs Malfoy."

"I would like you to know Mr Potter that if anything bad happens during these next few years the Malfoys will not ally to dark or light: we are sticking to the grey." Mr Malfoy stated.

"Well that's great." Harry grinned. "I'd hate to fight you."

"I'd win." Lyra smirked.

"I'd win." Harry replied.

"I don't have a say in this do I?" Draco asked.

"No." they laughed.

"Would you two like to take the duelling room?" Lucius asked.

They grinned and ran up. Harry noticed that the adult Malfoys were watching but he really didn't care.

"Usual rules?" he asked with a grin.

"Five minutes. Start the timer Draco." she replied, and they began dueling.

Immediately Harry crouched down and shielded from her opening barrage before he sent his own back. A stunner and petrifier, followed by a hidden incarcerous and a grey spell that gave someone a concussion. She blocked all of them and dodged the last before she let out a dark spell that sprayed thorns in a wide arc.

Harry knew this spell required a special shield, and murmured, "Clypeum." to block.

He grinned widely and let out his own dark spell, one that caused acid rain to fall on his opponent but Lyra used an invisible umbrella to block. Not waiting for her to recover he let out a binding spell but she dodged and let out a wave of spells.

Harry knew this spell and understood that most of the lights were sparks so he did nothing, just gathering his power for a mass spell. While the sparks wore off she shot a small barrage of simple spells at her before preparing his bigger spell: one he had learned from Professor Flitwick.

"Percute manum tuam daemonium scriptor!" he yelled, and a glowing red hand emerged and rocketed into Lyra's side. She flew to the side and crashed into the wall that was thankfully cushioned.

"Damn." Harry hissed, rushing to her size. "Enervate." he muttered, aware of the fact that everyone else was crowded over Lyra too.

Her eyes fluttered open, still unfocused, and they slowly concentrated on him. "What the hell was that?" she hissed.

"Demon's hand." Harry said sheepishly. "Professor Flitwick used it on me once. You alright."

"I'm alright." she groaned as she got to her feet, wobbling a little before gaining balance. "Nothing a little sleep won't fix."

"You two duel excellently." Narcissa praised. "I myself was not at that level at your age."

"We've been duelling together for a while though." Harry said. "We knew each others basic spells and weaknesses so we were able to use some of the more dubious spells safely."

* * *

The next few weeks went by that way. They hung out, played quidditch, duelled, practiced, and even got to visit Hogsmeade.

"Butterbeer is better during winter." Harry said.

"Definitely." Lyra laughed.

* * *

"So you got your patronus working but never saw it?" Lyra asked in confusion.

"I passed out and forgot about it until now." Harry shrugged.

"Let's see it!" Lyra asked, her grey eyes wide in excitement.

Harry closed his eyes and thought about staying at the Manor. He thought about laughing with Lyra and Draco, running through the gardens, duelling, eating.

"Expecto Patronum!" he said, and out of his wand a silvery shape wooshed out. As it took a form Harry was awed to see that it was a wolf. He was beautiful.

"He's beautiful." Lyra whispered.

"And your animagus." Draco said.

"We should become animagi." Lyra decided.

"Huh?" was the general reaction.

"After the World Cup we have a month of break. We can use that time to keep the mandrake leaf under our tongues so that when school starts all we have to do is meditate."

The world cup came up and Harry was excited. They entered the campsite through portkey and entered a beautiful tent with peacocks tethered outside of it.

"The peacocks Lucius?" Mrs Malfoy asked in an amused tone. "Really?"

"They are part of the family Narcissa." Lucius sniffed.

Harry grinned and raced to grab a room. He got the one in between Lyra and Draco's. In the evening they went down to the games. The only bitter part was when he saw Ron.

"So you abandoned us to hang out with Malfoys Harry?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I didn't abandon you." Harry rolled his eyes. "But they asked first."

"You could have asked us." Hermione said in a bossy tone.

Mrs Weasley said nothing, but Harry could see her disapproving glances and pursed lips. Mr Weasley was a little kinder though, giving Harry a small smile.

"Well you're always welcome at our house Harry." he stated. "No matter what."

"Yeah." Fred grinned. "If Ron won't take him we will!"

After the game, Harry couldn't say what had been his favorite part. Had it been when Krum caught the snitch? When he attempted the Wronski Feint? Harry couldn't remember all of it, only that the broad grin plastered to his face wouldn't slide off, and that Lyra had kissed him on the cheek in excitement when Ireland won.

"The Irish really got their pride on!" Draco commented when he heard the loud noise from outside.

"It's not the Irish." Lucius told them, his face pale. "This morning I was contacted by some of my old 'business associates.'I left, but they still went through with the plan."

"Dobby!" Harry called loudly. The little elf popped in.

"Take us home." he commanded, and with that the Malfoys and Harry were whisked away.

* * *

"This is bogus." Lyra signed bitterly, throwing the newspaper to the side with a flump.

In the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup the most peaceful thing for them all was the sit down with the mandrake leaf and talk through sign language. To keep them safe they didn't stop by Diagon Alley personally, and Mr Malfoy went by to pick up what they wanted. Harry upgraded the defenses on his trunk, and now he had to prick his finger for a blood check as well as a voice password that changed every week.

Soon their month with the mandrake was over and they were going back to Hogwarts.

"It feels good to talk again." Lyra trilled as they boarded the train to their usual compartment.

"Hello." Luna said as she floated in. "Do you know that this year Hogwarts will share her castle?"

"You won't tell us will you." Draco scowled.

Luna gave him a small smirk before going back to her magazine.

"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "All I know is that we had to buy dress robes. Did you have to buy a dress Lyra?"

"No." she said. "If I have to mother will send it to me."

"Oh, you guys." Blaise puffed before lugging his trunk up to the shelf and sprawling onto a seat.

"Hey Blaise." Harry grinned.

"Have you gotten your form yet?" Draco asked. "I read somewhere that it would match your patronus."

"Maybe." Harry shrugged. "My mind is always so chaotic it's taken me a while to organize it.

"How are you organizing?" Lyra asked.

Harry grinned at her before closing his eyes and retreating into his mindscape. It was a forest. Each tree was a day of memories, and each leaf a certain moment in that memory. As one got deeper into the forest the memories got older. In the very middle was a hole of brambles and thorns, full of memories he wanted to keep hidden. His forest was protected by animals that he was trying to create, but currently he had to find a pool of water.

When he was in his mindscape he was in his animagus form, but there was no water. He had been searching for a long time.

"You won't find it." Luna's voice broke him out of his reverie. "You have to look where no water can be found, in the place of hidden things."

Before Harry could respond he felt a jolt on the train and it started moving. The rest of the gang joined them, and Harry was taught how to expand the compartment himself.

"Why are you always reading?" Lee asked.

Harry grinned at him, running a hand through his messy black hair. "In Defense I'm learning spells that are at a Masters level."

"Damn." Leeo whistled, shaking his head of dreadlocks. "Like what I did to the dreads?"

"So Gryffindor." Draco sneered, before smirking. They were red and gold now, with black only showing at the tips.

"Mum flipped out." Lee laughed.

"I missed you guys." Ginny confessed, her hair being intricately put up by Luna. "Memories from the Chamber came back after the attack on the World Cup."

"You should have told us." Lyra said.

"I would have sent you some Dreamless Sleep." Blaise told her. "Mum keeps a potions cupboard since her recent husband is a potions master."

"You never did tell us what happens with your mum…" Seamus commented idly, slouched from where he was on Dean's shoulder.

"Mum's like an ending path." Blaise commented. "If you're rich and going to die, marry her. She'll make the ending amazing and the death will come quickly and painlessly."

"Poison?" Harry asked. "Spells? Accidents?"

"Traditionally poison." Blaise shrugged, twisting his diamond earring with one hand.

Dean ripped the piece that he had painted out of his sketchbook and held it up for them. It was of a vial of green poison, and since Dean had magical painting sets the poison was bubbling in a dark dungeon.

"That's really good." Daphne praised.

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

The journey was soon finished, and they split into two compartments to change into their robes.

"It's cold and wet." Lyra commented.

"Magical umbrellas." Harry told them. "They were made in America. Just say _guarda-chuva_ in your mind. It's wordless."

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Everyone in their group had used to spell and were protected from the downpour of rain.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Ooh." Daphne shuddered. "Am I glad that I'm not sailing across the lake in this weather."

"Even the Nargles are hiding." Luna shivered, as she pulled her robes closer to her and boarded the carriage.

"We're back at Hogwarts." Harry grinned broadly, pulling a shivering Luna next to him.


	13. Mad-Eye Moody

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey! I finally got a chapter in, and I hope everyone enjoys. This is the chapter I have been brainstorming for a while, and it's extra long.**

 **UPDATE: I fixed the typos where Cedric is a champion. Thanks to all reviewers who reminded me.**

* * *

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

"Hey guys." Harry grinned as he plopped himself down with Ron and Hermione.

Dean, Seamus, and Ginny took the seats opposite, while Fred and George sat with the Quidditch Team.

"I heard the headmaster has a big announcement." Hermione said excitedly as they loaded their plates after the sorting.

Harry nodded and waved to Colin, who grinned with his brother Dennis next to him. Dennis had just been sorted into Gryffindor.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

Harry wrinkled his nose slightly at the sight of food spraying from Ron's mouth but didn't comment, just taking a bite of his own potatoes. He spent most of the meal engrossed in a conversation with Ginny about the smaller aspects of Quidditch and whether Viktor Krum was the best seeker in the world.

Harry was brought out of the conversation by Hermione prodding him.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Help me." she said. "Ron thinks house elves deserve to stay slaves!"

"They're not slaves Mione." Harry laughed at her. "I have a house elf- Dobby. They _like_ working and helping wizards. I even send them fabrics to make their own clothes with at Christmas."

"You should see Dobby." Seamus smirked. "Like a firework exploded on him."

"Blimey that is one crazy elf." Ron commented.

"Dobby's cool." Harry defended.

"But they're enslaved Harry!" Hermione pleaded, her eyes wide.

Harry sighed, and said, "Hermione, they aren't enslaved. If they were free they would still work for us."

Hermione humphed and turned away, choosing to start a conversation with Dean about a show on the telly that both of them watched. Harry shrugged and started talking with Seamus about a new charm he found that he wanted to test out in his duels with Professor Flitwick.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbhedore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Ginny gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"He got scars fighting Dark Wizards in the First War against Voldemort." Harry told them in an undertone. "I read about it."

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, and Harry rolled his eyes- he wanted to find out more.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time...no..." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament...well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This -" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

"That's unfair!" George was still complaining as they made their way up to the common room.

"Why would you want to enter the tournament anyway?" Harry asked.

"A thousand galleons." Fred stated, his eyes unfocused and dreamy.

"We could jumpstart our joke shop with that." George finished.

"If you want a thousand galleons I'll just give you a thousand galleons.' Harry shrugged.

Both of them stopped to stare at him.

"A thousand galleons." Fred said faintly.

"We want to earn it mate." George said. "Maybe."

"Offer's always open." Harry shrugged. "You're my friends."

Later, in bed, once Harry was unpacked and his trunk's password reset, Harry thought about what it would be like if he was in the tournament. He imagined Lyra's proud face in the crowd when he won and buried his face in his pillow. He couldn't think that!

* * *

"Blast ended skrewts!" Seamus ranted as they headed to the tower to get changed. "What the fuck was Hagrid thinking!"

"I like Hagrid and all, but those are beyond." Harry grumbled.

Ancient Runes was much better, and they started off with a small rune activity. Lyra won because they were French runes, and even though Harry had learnt French over summer he wasn't as good as her.

"You can speak French?" Susan asked in in disbelief as they talked. "What else did you learn at Malfoy Manor?"

"I also learned how to speak basic Bulgarian." Harry offered. "I have no idea why Mr Malfoy offered to teach me those two languages, but I did some research and it turns out that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are from France and Bulgaria. He was just preparing us!"

"Good for you." Hannah laughed.

"Harry!" Draco came rushing down the hall.

"Yeah?" Harry asked as they walked into the courtyard and sat near a tree.

"Theodore Nott just got turned into a polecat!"

"What?" Harry questioned, confused.

"I was arguing with him because he called us blood traitors for hanging out with you," Draco grinned, "and when he attempted to curse me as I turned my back on him Moody turned him into a polecat!"

Harry laughed, before turning to Dean, who had joined them. "Whatcha drawing mate?"

"Something." Dean muttered, turning away so no one could see his sketch.

"Pleeeeeease?" Seamus whined, flopping onto Dean's lap.

Dean grumbled and turned away from him. Harry laughed at Seamus's disgruntled expression. Harry saw a swooping eagle owl fly over to them, but this one wasn't Imperius.

"Who is this?" Harry asked Draco as he opened the letter.

"This is Bubo Bubo. He's the family owl."

Harry snickered behind his hand. "Bubo Bubo?" he chortled.

"It's a perfectly respectful name!" Draco said indignantly.

"No it's not." Ginny said. "Bubo Bubo my arse."

"It's not a respectful name Draco." Lyra laughed. "But father got the owl when he was a child and the name has stuck."

Blaise, meanwhile, had completely lost his composure and was cackling on the ground. "Bubo-Bubo?" he wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye as he let out another cackle.

"Shut up mate." Draco grumbled, sending a mild stinging jinx at him.

When he didn't Lyra eyed him camly. "Blaise," she started, "I just read up on some wonderful castration jinxes. Can I test them?"

That stopped his laughter and he sat up somberly.

"She ain't joking around mate." Harry laughed as Lyra sent him a sweet smile that prophesied doom.

"Blimey!" Lee exclaimed as he flopped near them. "Moody's class is awesome!"

"He's been there." George said.

"Seen it all." Fred finished.

Excited, Seamus dove into his bag. "Damn." he said, letting the paper fall and flopping back down. "We don't have him till Thursday."

"We don't have him until Friday." Ginny shrugged. "We win."

"We have him tomorrow." Hannah laughed.

"Don't spoil it." Harry whimpered, pretending to swoon into Lyra's lap. She just laughed, a bright and airy sound, before pushing him away.

* * *

Harry sat in Defense at a table for three with Dean and Seamus and took out his book.

Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Dean looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out from the table next to Harry's.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago...Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore...One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head. Harry wondered what kind of eye it was, and what spells were on it.

"So...do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender. Harry watched in interest. He knew the three curses, but wanted to hear what Ron would say.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one...Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Dean leaned forward in fasciantion: he had been attempting to draw spiders for a while but could never get them right.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Harry. He had read about the Imperius curse in the last war and knew it wasn't something to laugh at.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and Harry knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to Harry's slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Dean leaned forward even more, examining its body and legs for color. Harry could see his hand subconsciously making the sketching movements.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly."

Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse...That one was very popular once too.

"Right...anyone know any others?"

Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Harry raised his hand this time, keeping his face stony.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at him.

"The Killing Curse," he whispered, "Avada Kedavra."

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra...the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all...

So that was how his parents had died...exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies? He had never seen the curse before, and never wanted to.

Harry had been picturing his parents' deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he'd found out they had been murdered, ever since he'd found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed his parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage. How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off, while he shouted at his wife to take Harry and run...Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harry...how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her son...and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harry...

Harry knew these details because he had heard his parents' voices when he had fought the dementors last year - for that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their own despair...

Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Harry. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now...those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills...copy this down..."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"

"Are you alright mate?" Dean asked him in a low voice.

"I'm fine." Harry replied gruffly, trying to push his emotions away.

He heard the two of them whispering to each other, before they pushed him to the classroom. "Go." they said, and Harry let out a barrage of lethal spells at the wall.

"Better?" Lyra asked as Harry let out deep, puffing breaths. Harry vaguely noticed that the room was empty except for them while he stumbled over to her.

"I didn't think it would affect me that much." he mumbled.

"You saw the spell that killed your parents." she soothed, running a delicate hand through his hair. "It would affect you."

"I should be stronger than this." Harry said, taking a ragged breath.

"You've been strong for three years." she told him. "You're allowed to collapse every once in a while."

"Wanna duel?" he asked, taking a deep breath and flicking his wand out of his holster.

"Sure." she grinned, pulling out her own wand and setting a timer for five minutes.

They didn't waste any time, and Harry shot a volley of simple spells at her. She easily blocked them and sent her own volley back, to which Harry shielded while preparing to send his own spell.

"Confundo!" he muttered, knowing it would not work. He was rather confused when the spell passed right through Lyra, and his eyes widened too late. Before he could turn around a silent spell stunned him.

When he came to he found Lyra leaning over him., a smirk dancing on her lips.

"New spell?" he asked.

"Disillusionment charm." she replied. "I just learned it."

"What was the hologram?" he asked.

"I'll show it to you." They walked off to the library, thoughts of the killing curse gone from Harry's mind.

Later that evening Harry was lounging by the fire playing a game of chess with Ron when Hermione approached them, a box in her hands.

"What's in the box?" he asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione. She took off the lid and showed them the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you two join - three," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

"Who said I'm secretary?" Harry Scoffed. "If you think that house elves want to be free why don't you talk to them?"

"They wouldn't understand. They've been brainwashed."

"Right." Harry groaned, before pulling himself out of his lounging position and giving Hermione back the badge she had handed him. "No."

"No?" Hermione asked.

"No." he replied firmly. "I know enough about house elves to understand that what you're attempting to do is stupid and won't work. I want no part in it, seeing as how I have my own elf."

"But you should free him?" Hermione gasped.

Harry rolled his eyes and got up. "Not arguing with you again." he stated before walking up to the dorm.

"What's wrong mate?" Dean asked, lounging in bed with his sketchbook.

"SPEW." Harry returned.

"Heh?"

"Hermione's promotion of elf safety."

"Oh." he rolled his eyes, before turning to Harry with his book. "What'd Ya think?"

Harry examined the picture of a spider sitting in the middle of a thin web, with only a wet, dripping leaf in the background. It was incredibly detailed for a sketch.

"Damn." Harry whistled. "You should color that thing and hang it up."

"Give Ron a heart attack." Dean barked in laughter.

"Death by spider." he snorted, shaking in laughter with Dean.

He finally calmed down, went to his trunk, whispered the password (Silver) and pulled out his nightclothes.

Seamus entered yawning. "I reckon Hermione's gone off the bend."

"Why?" Harry asked as he attempted to comb his hair.

"Ranting about SPUD or something in the common room and stopped the twins from testing out their joke projects."

"Escaped that." Harry replied airly.

Dean had pulled out his coloring box and was using pastels to shade the spider in next to them.

"Can you wait for the foreign schools to arrive?" Seamus asked in excitement as he pulled on his nightshirt.

"Can't wait." Harry laughed.

* * *

Harry walked to the front of the DADA classroom, his body tense. This would be the first time he had one of the Unforgivables used on him.

Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!"

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing all around his mindscape: Jump onto the desk...jump onto the desk...

Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring.

Jump onto the desk...

Why, though? Another voice had awoken in his mindscape. It got louder and louder as Harry tried to hear it, and Moody's voice more frantic.

Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.

Jump onto the desk...

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly...no, I don't really want to...

Jump! NOW!

NO! The other voice said, and Harry fell to his knees, his arms shaking with the effort of pushing Moody out.

"Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice, and suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the voice in his head seemed to get louder.

Idiot, it said. Why did it say idiot the exact way Lyra did? Harry could picture it in his mind. He would do something and she would roll her silver eyes, crossing her arms and smirking while shaking her head of short blonde hair. Painfully he pulled himself out of his thoughts to see the class staring at him.

"That's more like it! Sit down Potter. NEXT!"

After class everyone was talking about what they did.

"I can't believe you managed to repel the spell Harry." Seamus laughed.

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "It hurt though. Like I was floating in my mind."

"What'd he try to make you do?" Dean asked as he hiked his bag over his shoulder.

"Jump on the desk."

"Huh." Dean laughed. "You got it easy! I had to sing and hop!"

* * *

Workload was increasing as the end of October neared. They were assigned the memorization of three Nordic and Slavic rune charts in Ancient Runes and had to memorize even more spells for Charms. Harry's duelling with professor Flitwick had kicked up a notch and the professor had recommended he take a visit to Diagon Alley and buy himself duelling robes if they were to go any further.

Harry had convinced him to take Harry to Diagon Alley next Hogsmeade visit in November through apparition, which Harry had not learned yet. Professor Flitwick was teaching him how to incorporate charms and transfiguration into his duelling now, though Harry was better at charms than transfiguration. The best he could do was turn a conjured animal into a stone statue, and even then the statue was liable to fall apart.

He decided to stick with charms for the time being. Harry had even gotten some obscure spells that Professor Snape made when he told the professor about his hunt for more spells to learn. He won his first duel ever with Professor Flitwick thanks to the Levitation jinx.

It had surprised the professor to be lifted into the air and Harry had been able to stun him. Professor Flitwick had gone even harder on him in the next duel, and now both of them were fighting their hardest, not holding anything back.

"Harry." Professor Flitwick called him after one lesson.

"Yeah?" Harry asked as he healed a minor cut on his arm.

"You have advanced tremendously these past few years, and I would like to give you a gift, from teacher to student."

Harry stood and watched as he brought out a thick book.

"What is it?" he asked, holding to book reverently.

"It's a compendium of spells, curses, jinxes, and hexes in Latin, Greek, French, Polish, and Norwegian." he told him. "This will be the ultimate study guide for you, and I have charmed it so that if you want to add a spell you must simply write it down on an empty page in the same format as the others."

"Wow." Harry breathed, looking up at the Professor. "Thanks so much."

The diminutive professor smiled. "Good luck Harry."

"What's this?" Lyra asked as she met him after the lesson.

"A book of spells." Harry told her, fingering the leather book delicately.

"It's beautiful." she whispered in awe, tracing the glittering calligraphy that spelled _Compendium: Magic_.

When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase.

"What does the sign say?" Lyra asked, being slightly shorter than Harry. He had grown considerably thanks to his duelling training.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY-STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Wicked." Harry breathed after reading it. "What'd you reckon the schools will be like?"

"I heard that Durmstrang is in a really cold place." Draco told them as he approached.

"Beauxbatons is in France. Lyra told them, having attended it in her first year. "It's a beautiful place like Hogwarts, only without any poltergeists or suits of armour. It has a bunch of walls of pure glass and during winter there are ice sculptures everywhere."

"It sounds beautiful." Harry commented.

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Harry noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too.

"Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

Harry had been unable to stop mild snickers since Professor Flitwick had once beat him in a duel using that spell.

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Hermione was getting more annoying with her SPEW thing, and Harry had finally lost it and told her in no uncertain terms that he didn't care. They had tried reasoning with her but she kept stating that it was because they were brainwashed, and they had quit trying.

That Friday was a good day. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. When the bell rang early, Harry, Dean, and Seamus hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

Harry overall thought that the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang entrances were flashy and well done. He laughed when Draco gaped at Krum, who had sat down with them, while Lyra and Daphne teased him about his man crush. Harry had already known that Krum still attended school, as the player was only 17.

The beauxbatons students were beautiful, and a stunning blonde one had Ron drooling. Dean and Seamus were immune like Harry, but while Harry knew that the two didn't swing that way he didn't understand why he was immune. Hmm. He knew she was a veela based on her looks, and he would have to ask her or do research.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

The blonde girl who had everyone drooling gave a small, derisive laugh.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.

Harry was taking a bite of a delicious french dish and laughing when Ron wrinkled his nose at it.

It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"How were you not affected mate?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"I don't know." Harry shrugged.

"Harry it's incredibly hard to resist the allure of a veela." Hermione told him. 'Either you practice the dark arts or you're in love."

Harry chose to say silent, not wanting to respond.

"Well Harry can't be in love!" Ron chortled.

"Harry can't be practicing the dark arts." Hermione responded.

They started arguing and Harry tuned them out.

"Honestly." Ginny laughed. "When will those two just stop?"

"I dunno." Harry shrugged.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket -"

"What?" Roh asked.

Harry shrugged.

"- just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed."

"So what will happen, you think?" Harry asked.

"Diggory from Hufflepuff is entering." Dean brought up.

"Angelina wants to enter for Gryffindor." Seamus noted.

"Roger Davies from Ravenclaw and Cassius Warrington in Slytherin." Dean finished.

"Hmm." Harry hummed as he put his things away. "Cedric and Angelina seem like the best choices."

"You gotta support Angelina mate!" Ron butt in. "She's a Gryffindor."

"Cedric is my friend." Harry replied.

"He's a Hufflepuff." Ron snorted, as though it was a bad thing.

Harry stiffened. "What's wrong with being a Hufflepuff?" he asked softly, his tone dangerous. He was insulting Susan and Hannah.

Ron, seeing that Harry was angry, stayed silent.

Dean rolled his eyes and made a rude gesture to Ron behind his back, causing Harry to stifle his snort. Seamus smirked at that.

* * *

"Who do you think will be picked?" Ron asked Dean as they stared at the flaming goblet.

"Not us." Fred and George chorused, reminding of the hilarious attempt at the age line, one involving an aging potion and some very creative spells.

Dean snorted as he recalled the incident.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second," Lee whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next...

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is…"

The hall was full of murmurs as Dumbledore paused, a confused look on his face. "Harry Potter."

Harry froze. His vision blurred and the world tilted as he tried to get a grasp on what was happening. "He was a champion."

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore roared when there was no response.

Numbly, Harry got up and walked to the front of the room. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everyone else. Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the two champions.

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the third Triwizard champion?"

"I'm not a champion." was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

"Oh?" Delacour asked, arching her brow.

"I didn't put my name in, and I'm sure as hell not competing." Harry replied fiercely.

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Fleur frowned.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Well...it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage...It's down in the rules, you're obliged...Harry will just have to do the best he -"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "That boy is a fourth year?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"He's also right here." Harry scoffed, only to be ignored.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave him as a champion. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling at the woman.

"I did not!" Harry snarled.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"This is a tournament." Dumbledore started.

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to weaken 'Ogwarts!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear him saying a word..."

"I've been arguing this entire time!" Harry burst. "And the simplest way to solve this is to give me Veritaserum, just enough for one question like in Veritaserum and Dare!"

"That would not excuse the fact that you must compete." Crouch growled.

"Bite my ass." Harry snarled back.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "My dear boy…"

"I'm not your dear boy, and I don't want to compete in this tournament!"

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Harry has been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, he will do..."

"He can'not!" Maxine burst out.

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Karkaroff was livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes...the first task..."

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important...

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

" I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I've left young Weatherby in charge...Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor is waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry left.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

Was anyone going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in for the tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had - when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, he'd thought about it...he'd fantasized about it...but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream...he'd never really, seriously considered entering...

But someone else had considered it...someone else had wanted him in the tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat? He didn't think so, somehow...

To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish...

But to get him killed?

Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry's name in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead?

Harry was able to answer that at once. Yes, someone wanted him dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old...Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone...feeble and powerless...

Harry got a shock to find himself facing the Fat Lady already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbor's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before him. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with the keenest interest.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room.

Harry entered the room to silence. Everyone except for his friends was staring at him judgmentally. Then the tirade started.

"How the hell did you get in the tournament Potter?" someone called out.

"He's too young!"

"He shouldn't be allowed."

"SHUT UP!" Ginny got up, yelling at all of them. "You've all supported Harry for a long time, and now you're against him?"

"He cheated Ginny." Ron told her, coming out from the crowd. "And Gryffindor doesn't accept cheaters."

"Admit the truth Harry." Hermione said. "Who taught you the dark magic required for tricking the goblet? One of the Slytherins?"

"Why do you always think that when something goes wrong it's the Slytherin fault?" Harry replied in frustration. "They're not all evil you know?"

"They're not." Dean shrugged, going to stand by Harry with Seamus, Lee, Ginny, and the Twins.

"So you take his side." Ron sneered, the rest of the Gryffindors following him.

"He's our friend, and we thought you were his." Lee said.

"I'm not friends with liars." Ron sneered.

"There's a Gryffindor rule that we are allowed to kick someone out of the house by majority vote." Hermione pointed out.

"Well he's banned." Angelina Johnson sneered.

Harry felt a pang in his chest as the girl he thought was a friend glared at him for taking her chance at the cup.

"Fine." he replied shortly, pushing his feelings away. He stalked out, Ginny and the rest behind him. He walked the halls, not really knowing where he was going until he bumped into someone.

"Aah!" Susan let out a short scream as she fell on Harry.

Harry groaned as he got up, helping Susan and righting himself.

"What happened?" he asked.

"The Hufflepuffs were angry." Hannah said quietly. "They didn't like that you had taken Cedric's chance at being a champion, and nothing he said could calm them down. Cedric told us to go before spells were fired, and I'm pretty sure we won't be welcome again. He said that even though he wasn't chosen to be a champion, he hopes you bring Hogwarts victory."

"Same thing for us." Lyra said, striding down the corridor with Draco, Daphne, and Blaise.

"I was also kicked out." Luna said quietly, meeting them all at the intersection.

Harry smirked softly as he thought of the muggle action movies where people would all meet each other and the crossing hallways.

"Where to?" Seamus asked. "We need a place to stay."

"I can't think of anything." Harry muttered, and they all stood, occasionally offering suggestions.

"Harry!" the voice of Colin Creevey came echoing down the hall, his brother Dennis with him.

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"The Gryffindors are trying to get into your things! They aren't able to get through so far, and when I said that they should stop they kicked us out!"

"Dobby." Harry whipped out, his voice sharp. The elf appeared. "Bring all of our things from our dormitories to a safe place until we can find a permanent chamber."

"A chamber!" Lyra snapped her fingers. "The Chamber of Secrets!"

They all looked up.

"Lyra." Draco said slowly. "Even if we get in, there is a dead basilisk in there."

"Dobby could move the big snake Mister Draco sir!" Dobby said, surprising them all, as they had forgotten he was there. "With Tilly and Flinky Dobby could do it until Master Harry trades it!"

"I can trade it?" Harry asked.

"Yeah." Blaise said. "The goblins offer a hefty price for basilisk skin, and with the money you could probably buy yourself high quality graphorn skin duelling robes."

"How much?" Harry asked.

"Probably a million galleons or so." Daphne remarked.

"Bloody." Fred stated.

"Hell." George finished.

Even Harry raised an eyebrow at that one. "Damn." he whistled.

"Dobby, Tilly, and Flinky have removed the big snake master Harry!" Dobby squeaked as he popped in.

"Thanks Dobby." Harry grinned. "Now let's go to the Chamber of Secrets."

They walked carefully, doing their best to avoid any patrols. Harry, having the Map, was able to hide them in secret corridors many times.

"We're here." he muttered as they entered Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"A bathroom?" Dennis asked, as the Creevey's had joined them. "The Chamber of Secrets is in a bathroom?"

Harry ignored them and walked over to the sink, hissing _Open._

The door to the Chamber opened, and they all started.

"A slide?" Draco broke the silence. "Ask for stairs or something."

"I don't know if that's possible, but I can try." Harry shrugged. " _Stairs."_

To his surprise, a staircase appeared, and they all descended.

"We need light." Colin peeped.

"I learned a new spell for wandless light, but I don't know if it will work." Harry said.

"No time like the present." Daphne laughed.

"Exardesco." Harry whispered, a bright flame appearing in the palm of his hand. It was draining him too much, and with a grunt Harry extinguished it.

"I can't hold it." he panted.

"Just do normal Lumos everyone." Dean said.

They all held up their wands for light and trekked down the passage, stopping at the snake skin.

"Blimey Harry." Draco whistled. "You killed a basilisk this size?"

"Actually this is maybe half of the basilisk's actual size." Harry said quietly.

"Bloody hell." Fred whispered, his voice slightly awed.

"Come on." Harry told them. "This way."

They walked forward, reaching the snake door.

" _Open."_ Harry hissed, and they watched as it swung open slowly.

The group filed into the room, looking around the ancient chamber in awe.

"Where do you think Dobby set up the beds?" George asked.

"I don't know." Harry said. "We should look around." he stifled a yawn.

They all searched, trying to find the way before they succumbed to sleep.

"I FOUND IT!" Astoria yelled finally, having also been kicked out of Slytherin.

There was a mad rampage to where she was, and they saw her standing at the statue of Salazar Slytherin's foot.

"What?" Seamus asked. "What'd Ya see?"

"There." she pointed to the edge of his beard. There was the engraving of a snake.

" _Open."_ Harry hissed on a whim, and the statue slid open.

"Awesome." they breathed as they adventured in.

"It's a common room." Blaise finally whispered as they stood in the main room, using the lights from their wands to look around.

"I don't care." Harry groaned, too tired to take in his surroundings. "Lets just find the dormitories. If there's a common room, there's a dormitory."

"I found the lights!" Ginny squealed, and arching ceiling lights lit up the room.

"Good night." Harry yawned as the boys trudged up to bed from their passageway, while the girls took their own. Dobby and the others had already set their beds up. Harry was between Draco and Dean.


	14. Rita Skeeter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's

 **Wow guys! Another chapter so soon! I've been working really hard, but it isn't as long as the last. Hope you enjoy, and please review.**

* * *

The next day Harry went down to the common room, his robes loose. He looked around, drinking a cup of tea courtesy of the house elves. He had found several books there, and from them had been able to piece together the history of the room.

Apparently the Chamber was a safe house for if Hogwarts ever went under siege. There was a dining area there, housing, a small room, and the Chamber, which was also the common room. Harry had talked to Dobby and some of the other elves, and they had agreed to fix up lighting in the room and clean it up. They had also agreed to talk to Hogwarts and see if she could turn the bathroom into a proper, warded entrance for the common room. House elves were amazing.

"We could stay here you know." Lyra commented as she took a seat on the couch next to him. "Only have to go back up for lessons."

"We could." Harry commented. "And I like it here. We're almost like another house of Hogwarts."

"Yeah." Luna laughed softly. "The unofficial house of Hogwarts."

"House Hedwig." Harry smirked.

"I'll make banners!" Dean piped up.

Harry goggled slightly as everyone took the fifth house idea seriously.

"You know I was joking right?" he brought up nervously.

"We know!" Ginny chirped as she explored the room. "But it sounds fun!"

* * *

Harry had thought that only the school would calm down after a while. He was wrong.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their chance for glory. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron and Hermione weren't talking to him either. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape were the only two professors who weren't acting as though they had a grudge against him. They had even talked Dumbledore into calling the Aurors to inspect the Goblet. Harry met Nymphadora Tonks there, a bright metamorphmagus Auror who Harry had met at the Ministry's Summer Gala that he attended with the Malfoys.

Eventually they found a confundus charm on the goblet, but they were unable to trace the magical signature.

"It's alright." Tonks said cheerily, her bright pink hair turning purple. "Even if the school hates you, your friends don't. That's what matters most."

"Who were you friends with?" Harry asked.

"Charlie Weasley was my best friend." she grinned. "Eventually he left for Romania cause he loves dragons, but we still keep in touch."

"Are you with anyone?" Harry asked, wanting to know more about the auror.

"No." she laughed. "I'm aromantic, which means that I don't really do romance."

"Oh." Harry replied, not really sure how to respond.

"Enough about me." she smirked. "Tell me about you! After all, I'll be stationed at the school for protection this year."

"The entire school hates me." he scoffed. "That enough?"

"They can't hate you." Tonks said doubtfully, trailing off.

"Well they do." he grouched. "I'm just glad my friends haven't abandoned me."

"So you guys live in the Chamber of Secrets now?" she commented after some more conversation.

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "We talked to the house elves and they cleaned the chamber up properly. I even got a couple million galleons for the basilisk corpse, and I got duelling robes made for all of the my friends with the extra hide. I'm getting graphorn ones made when I go to Diagon Alley, but I didn't have enough money to get graphorn ones for both."

"Wicked." she cooed in awe.

"We also figured out a way to set a password on the area in Parseltongue, so I've been teaching my friends some phrases that we can use as passwords."

"Blimey." she whispered. "Could you teach me some?"

"Sure." Harry grinned. "Come on."

He led her up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which had been warded by the elves to look like a plain wall now. Moaning Myrtle was their unofficial house ghost, and the twins had convinced Peeves to be their head of house. It was all quite a silly affair.

" _Open"_ he hissed, watching as the door opened. The bathroom was now a large room, a waiting room of sorts, with the hole in the middle covered by a plethora of chairs.

"Try it." he told her. "The first part is like hocking a spitball, and the second part resembles a leaking pipe."

" _Kittens."_ Tonks hissed, prompting Harry to stifle a giggle.

"Try hissing a little more guttural." he advised.

" _Open."_ she hissed, watching in surprise as it opened.

Harry laughed as her dumbfounded expression and leaped down the pipe, sliding down the newly cleaned pipe to stand up straight.

"AAAAHH!" Tonk's voice came echoing down the pipe as she slid down, landing on her feet. She stood dizzily, taking in her surroundings.

The Chamber, after being cleaned, was quite beautiful. The entrance hall was lit by torches that illuminated long columns, all of which were adorned with marble snakes.

"It's beautiful." Tonks breathed as they walked through to the entrance, which could be opened without a password now.

"Welcome to the headquarters of House Hedwig." Harry grinned with a flourish of his arm. The hall was now beautifully lit by torches that were suspended around the hall and in the air. It was clean and organized. There was a cluster of chairs in the corner, along with five, towering bookshelves stuffed to the brim with all of their books.

Luna and Dean were reading in a corner, while Seamus was duelling Ginny.

"This is wicked." Tonks laughed as she looked around, before straightening up. A patronus was floating down the hall to her.

 _Tonks, you're needed. Ministry, ten minutes._

The unearthly voice of Minister Bones floated in, and before Harry could say anything Tonks was running back, going up the staircase that led to the main hall.

"Hmm." he said nothing, walking back up to the hall.

He was peacefully in his own thoughts when he was disturbed.

"Hey traitor." his old friend Ron sneered at him.

"Weasley." Harry replied icily, slipping his wand into his hand.

"Ready to beg forgiveness yet?" he mocked.

"Not on your life." Harry sneered.

Harry wasn't sure who started the first volley of spells among Ron, Hermione, and some other Gryffindors, but he fought back.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, silently stunning another girl and slamming a boy into a wall with another spell.

"Depulso!" Hermione's voice came from behind, and Harry spun around too late. He dodged the spell, but it hit his wand.

He watched in a detached sense as his wand went flying into the wall, snapping in half cleanly. There was silence in the hall as Harry scrambled to his wand, cradling the fragmented pieces in his shaking hands.

"No." Harry whispered, his voice strangled. He vaguely heard the Gryffindors running away but he was too concentrated on the fractured pieces of his wand.

Shaking slightly, he let two tears fall in mourning before he straightened up wiping his tears away and heading to the common room.

"What happened?" Lyra asked.

"Weasley and Granger broke my wand." Harry hissed, pulling out the fragments of his old wand.

"Those bastards." Draco snarled. Luna just sat next to him and held his hand in a comforting way. Ginny was screaming up a klunkstorm, and Fred, George, and Lee had retired to the Potions Corner and were plotting revenge.

"You're going with Flitwick tomorrow to Diagon Alley for the duelling robes, right?" Lyra asked. "You should get a new wand there too, and bring your old wand. Ollivander might be able to fix it."

"They broke his wand Lyra." Daphne snarled, looking more savage than ever. "They should pay."

"They won't." Astoria scoffed. "Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it."

Harry just stayed quiet, holding the fractures of his old wand.

"You should keep it somewhere safe." Seamus told him.

"I have a mokeskin pouch that Blaise gave me last year." Harry shrugged, walking away to his dorm room to put his wand fragments away.

* * *

"Ready to go Harry?" Flitwick asked him the next day. They stood in the Forbidden Forest, outside the grounds of Hogwarts.

"Yeah." Harry replied, mustering up a small smile.

"Have you ever side-along apparated before?"

"Once." Harry replied, recalling the dizzy, stomach-lurching experience from last summer.

Without a warning they lurched away, landing in Diagon Alley a few seconds later.

"Do you think I could stop at Gringotts?" Harry asked.

Professor Flitwick nodded, and they set off for Gringotts. Half an hour later Harry walked out with a bag full of gold from his basilisk.

"Ready to go?" Flitwick asked.

Harry fidgeted, not wanting to tell the Professor his wand was broken. _Can I trust him?_

"Professor, I need to stop at Ollivanders. My wand broke."

The diminutive professor raised his bushy eyebrows.

"But who would commit such a crime?"

"Gryffindors." Harry scowled, holding no love towards his old house.

Professor Flitwick said nothing, giving him a sad smile before following him to the old man's wand shop. They entered to the musty smell of wands.

"Mr Ollivander?" Harry called.

"Hello Mr Potter." he appeared from within the wand-laden shelves. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry looked at him mutely, pulling the fragments of his wand out of his mokeskin pouch.

The white-haired man raised an eyebrow. "It is incredibly hard to find a second wand Mr Potter."

"Can you make me a second wand?" Harry asked. "Craft it to my needs?"

"That will cost more."

"I'll do it anyway." he replied, undeterred.

"Follow me Mr Potter. Not Filius, though."

With a grin at his Charms Professor Harry followed the man down long aisles of messily arranged wand boxes to a wooden table.

"Come here Mr Potter." Ollivander told him, bringing him to a wall that had nearly thirty different samples of wood hung up on a woven carpet. "I want you to extend your magic and find which wood works best with you."

Harry closed his eyes and pushed his magic forward, feeling for the wood that felt as warm in his hand as his holly wand used to. There! A tingle of magic rushed through his body and he touched two pieces of wood.

"Holly and Cypress wood." Ollivander whispered. "Follow me!" he whispered more urgently, as though something special was about to happen.

They were now facing another wall, this one with small shelves in it, all of which held wand cores in vials.

"You know what to do."

Harry shut his eyes again, feeling for the tingle in his magic. His hand shot out and he touched two things in the shelves, his other hand touching his old wand core.

"Basilisk Venom and centaur hair." Ollivander whispered, the light making him appear a ghoul. "Mixed with your old wand core of phoenix feather."

He said nothing, leading Harry back to the shop's entrance, where Flitwick was peacefully waiting.

"Come back in two hours Mr Potter." the wizened wizard told him, ushering the two out of the shop.

"Would you like to stop for lunch Mr Potter?" Flitwick asked. "I know an excellent sandwich shop down the alley."

They stopped there for lunch, and then headed to Knockturn Alley for duelling robes. Strictly speaking, Graphorn Robes were a valuable and expensive commodity, so one had to go into the darker parts of Knockturn to find the robe shop. Fortunately, Professor Flitwick was well versed in the alley, being half goblin.

"Ready Harry?" he asked.

Harry nodded, pulling his robe over his head so to cover his face. The boy-who-lived would not be welcome in the darker parts of Knockturn Alley.

They entered Raven's Robes and walked to the counter.

"I want graphorn duelling robes." Harry stated, his voice rougher and deeper than usual thanks to the charms that Flitwick had placed on him.

The man at the counter raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can afford them?"

"Would I ask for them if I couldn't?" Harry snarled in return.

The man gave an oily, insincere smile before whirling around and disappearing into the back of his shop.

One hour later, Harry had been fitted with graphorn duelling robes, and his pouch was lighter by nearly half a million galleons.

"Back to the wand shop." Flitwick told him. The professor had gone off during Harry's robe fitting and bought himself some books on darker charms, though none of them were pure dark magic.

They walked back, Harry eager to get a new wand. Ollivander was already waiting for them as they entered the dusty shop.

"You wand is ready Mister Potter." he stated, pulling a wand box out. He opened it to reveal the wand, and Harry stared in reverence.

It was long, nearly thirteen inches, and it had carvings of wolves etched onto it. The lighter brown of cypress wood was swirling around the dark holly.

"Phoenix feather with centaru hair wrapped around it, submerged in a solution of basilisk venom." Ollivander told him. "As this is your second wand, I also took the liberty of "forgetting" to add the ministry runes that allow them to track you magic."

Harry started, staring at the wizened man in surprise. "Thank you." he stated sincerely.

"Dark times are coming Mr Potter." he replied, melting into the shadows of his shop. "You need all the help you can get."

There was silence, before Professor Flitwick broke it. "Ready to go Harry?"

Harry slashed his new wand downwards, a stream of sparks emerging from the tip of his wand. It felt _right_ , amazing even, to do magic with this wand.

"It's perfect." he murmured, finally breaking out of his trance. "Ready."

Flitwick held out his hand, and they apparated back to Hogwarts. The professor had been given permission to apparate in and out through the wards for the day by the headmaster.

"Thank you professor." Harry told him.

"My pleasure Harry. You are my duelling student, and I daresay that with these new robes we may be able to take our practice duels to new levels. I myself only have dragonskin duelling robes."

"Professor." Harry started, feeling as though he had to thanks him for teaching Harry. "I have some extra basilisk skin left over, and I could have a pair of duelling robes commissioned for you."

Flitwick raised a bushy eyebrow. "Nonsense Harry! I would not want you wasting money like that on me."

"No, I think I should.' Harry decided, confident in his decision. "I owe you something, Professor."

He smiled, lighting up his face. "Thank you Harry."

Harry grinned brightly, before going off to the chamber.

" _Power."_ he hissed, the tube opening up. Every week he would teach them a new word in Parseltongue, and that would become their password.

"Harry!" a chorus of voices greeted him as he entered.

"Did you get your new and?" Dennis asked.

Harry laughed, flicking it out of his wand holster. "Cypress and Holly. Centaur hair wrapped around my old phoenix feather doused in basilisk venom."

"He has put your soul on the wand." Luna stated, fingering the wolf carvings.

Harry glanced at Lyra, both of them thinking the same thing. His animagus? Luna was a seer…

"Let's try a duel!" Draco cheered, pulling his wand out.

Harry grinned, getting into a duelling position in the vast Chamber of Secrets.

"Begin!" Astoria shouted, and Harry immediately let out a volley of spells that crashed against Draco's shield.

Damn. This wand was better at channeling magic than his old one; he would have to be careful.

"Incendio!" he shouted, sending a gout of fire at Draco while rolling out of the way of the bone-breaking hex sent his way.

Draco sent a flame back, and Harry made a shield of water.

"Fulgur!" he bellowed, a flash of lightning coming out of the edge of his wand. It hit Draco's shield, and after a small fight of magic broke through it and threw him to the ground.

"Allright?" Harry asked as he jogged over to his friend.

"Fine." Draco wheezed, allowing Susan to fix the hole in his shirt with a small spell.

"Where did you learn that spell?" Blaise asked.

"Books." Harry replied with a small smile. "I have to get to my duelling lesson now."

Harry passed the house crest that Dean had created for fun. It was Hedwig, with a basilisk coiled around her wing joints, sitting on a pile of books. The basilisk had a lightning bolt in his jaws.

"Ready Harry?" Flitwick asked in his office.

"Could we try something different today?" Harry asked.

Professor Flitwick motioned for him to continue.

"I lost in a duel to more than one opponent, and I want to practice duelling many people."

"I am only one person, so I cannot do such a thing. I suggest duelling your friends, two or three at a time."

"Ok." Harry shrugged. "Shall we begin?"

Without a preamble Professor Flitwick let out a volley of spells, which Harry shielded. The few that got through sparked harmlessly against his duelling robes. Harry grinned and let out the lightning spell again while creating a smokescreen and disillusioning himself.

Professor Flitwick just dodged the spell and screamed "Venti!" which let out a gust of air that dispelled his smokescreen.

"Aguamenti blattea!" Flitwick commanded, and a rain of purple water washed down on Harry, revealing his position.

Harry let out a string of curses before preparing for a bigger curse, trusting for his robes to repel all magic. That was his undoing, and before he knew what had happened he was rocketing across the room.

"That was an excellent duel Harry!" Professor Flitwick smiled, letting him down off the wall. "Can you point out your mistake?"

"I relied on the robes instead of my magic." Harry sighed, gulping down water.

"Good Harry. A shield charm would have been more appropriate."

"Thanks for the lesson Professor." Harry thanked him, before heading back.

* * *

 _Dear Sirius_

 _I thought you should know that I was picked to compete in the Triwizard Tournament as the Hogwarts Champion. The entire school got really mad, and now my true friends and I (Not Ron and Hermione) are living in the Chamber of Secrets. Please don't come here, it would put you in danger. I am fine, and if you want to talk I can look at the fireplace in the chamber. Snape and Professor Flitwick are on my side though. Oh, and Tonks the auror. She's your cousin._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

* * *

Harry sat in the potions lesson, brewing peacefully with Lyra. Hermione, no Granger, was noticeably absent since Draco had hexed her in a fight. Hermione had ragged on him for abandoning his house and consorting with dark wizards, and Draco, in anger, elongated her teeth. Unfortunately, Granger had let off a curse that fortunately hit Goyle, Nott's potion partner.

He ignored the Potter Stinks badge that Weasley flashed at him. Theo Nott had created the badges, and was marketing them for free. Ginny had taken his entire stock and burnt it all when the teachers weren't looking.

He smashed the raspberries into paste and gave them to Lyra, who spooned it into the cauldron while he stirred the potion. He was much better now that Snape wasn't breathing down his shoulder the entire time.

Just then, the door creaked open and Colin walked in. "Professor Snape, I need Harry for the tournament. Their doing some sort of Weighing of the Wands."

"Go Potter." Snape told him. "Nott, partner with the female Malfoy since your partner is missing."

Nott grinned and walked over, while Lyra sneered and pointedly scooted her chair away from him. Harry wasn't completely sure how he felt about Nott's obvious crush on Lyra.

"Bye." he told her quietly before following Colin out the dore.

"What's the weighing of the wands?" Colin asked.

Harry, having done his research, replied, "It's where they bring in a wandmaker to check the champions wands to make sure they are in top shape."

"But didn't you get a new wand?" Colin asked.

"It doesn't matter." he shrugged. "If anyone asks, a bunch of cowardly lions broke my wand in a seven on one fight."

Harry knocked on the door and entered, bidding Colin farewell.

He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Four chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, everyone is here!" Bagman laughed. "Everyone, I want to introduce Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet. She'll be doing a small piece on the tournament."

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"May I have a few word with the champions before we start?" she asked, eyeing Harry like a predator.

"Certainly!" Bagman exclaimed.

"Youngest first." she stated, going over to Harry and making to grab his arm.

"Do not touch me." Harry stated coldly. "If you want an interview, you do it on my terms."

"And what are those?"

"I will also give an interview to the Quibbler, the magazine my friend runs. You also can't twist any of my words out of proportion like in your other articles, or I'll sue you. All the other champions have to get equal time."

She stared surprised, before smirking. "You know how to play the game. Lovely."

After a short interview they went back up, and Rita went up for Viktor, then Fleur.

"Shall we weigh the wands now?" Dumbledore asked them all.

"Let us begin!" Bagman cheered.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. He had just visited the old wizard a few days ago for his new wand. Harry surreptitiously flicked it out, examining the polished surface discreetly.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm..." he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches...inflexible...rosewood...and containing...dear me..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry. That just proved his theory.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Krum, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Viktor as he passed her.

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I...however..."

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes...hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees...quite rigid...ten and a quarter inches...Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves...Mr. Potter."

Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.

"Aah, what a beautiful piece. It's as though I just made it."

Harry smirked at the old wizard, who smiled secretively.

"Thirteen inches, I believe, with Holly and Cypress wood. Phoenix feather with centaur hair wrapped around it in a solution of basilisk venom."

"I had thought you wand was holly and phoenix feather Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying not to look impressed at the fact that Harry had a custom made wand with more than two cores. Three was rare, though not impossible.

"I was ambushed by six Gryffindors a week ago, and they broke my wand." Harry sneered. "Cowardly lions. I had to get a new wand during my trip with Professor Flitwick to purchase duelling robes."

"I had thought you were a Gryffindor?" Karkaroff sneered.

"They abandoned me." Harry snorted. "I am not one of them."

"What about your Gryffindor pride Dumbledore?" Karkaroff jeered.

"I am sure you are just blowing the situation up Mr Potter." Dumbledore attempted to placate him.

"No I'm not." Harry snorted. "Can we continue?"

Ollivander took his wand and created a wave of water with it, before proclaiming his wand prefect and sending him back.

"Pictures!" Skeeter trilled.

After ten minutes of pictures, in which they had to take group shots and singles, they were finally free to go.

"Ready to for the interview Harry?" Luna asked as she bounced into the common room.

"Yeah Lulu." he grinned, getting ready to talk.

Dennis and Colin had officially been pulled on as photographers for the Quibbler, and were paid five galleons per photo.

The article came out a few days later.

 _ **The Triwizard Tournament!**_

 _ **By Rita Skeeter**_

 _ **Hello readers, and aren't we all excited to know that the Triwizard Tournament is back! For those who do not know what it's, the Triwizard Tournament is a tournament with three schools and three tournaments, where the three compete for the Triwizard Cup!**_

 _ **This year's champions are Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker who caught the snitch this summer at the Quidditch Cup, from Durmstrang. Fleur Delacour, daughter of the famous politician Apolline Delacour, will be competing for Beauxbatons. Hogwarts, however, is represented by its very own Harry Potter!**_

 _ **Mister Potter is unaware as to how he was entered even though he is underage, and our hearts go out to him. After the Gryffindors kicked him out, accusing him to using dark magic to become a champion, Harry and his friends have been living in the Chamber of Secrets as the unofficial fifth house of Hogwarts, what they have playfully dubbed House Hedwig after Harry's owl.**_

" _ **I didn't put my name in the cup." Harry says. "My friends and I think its a death eater plot, especially after what has happened the past few years."**_

 _ **For those who don't know, Mister Potter was attacked by Quirinus Quirrel, the DADA teacher in his first year, and in his second year he killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets so he could save his friend Ginevra Weasley.**_

" _ **My 'eart goes out to 'arry. He is younger, an' he 'as been thrown in the deep end." Fleur Delacour says.**_

" _ **Potter is an honourable opponent." Viktor Krum states. "I do not believe he put his name in the cup."**_

 _ **When asked who would win the tournament, all champions had a different response.**_

" _ **I hope to win." Harry says honestly, "But the others are more experienced than I, and I just want to not put Hogwarts to shame. If my parents were alive I think they would be supporting me in my attempt to survive the tournament."**_

" _ **Eet comes down to training. I have been learning the entire summer with tutors as part of the program my muzzer put me in." Fleur says. "I am confident in victory."**_

" _ **I vill bring broom skills to competition." Krum says, refusing to elaborate.**_

 _ **So who will take the cup, glory, and one thousand galleons? Is it Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived and slayed basilisks? Is it gorgeous Fleur Delacour, with an affinity for fire and training. Or will it be Viktor Krum, the dashing Bulgarian seeker?**_

Harry grinned as he read the article. Rita Skeeter had not embellished too much, and her article was pretty tame. Luna, on the other hand, had decided to write an entire article about him and his adventures to back up the Daily Prophet, and another article about past tournaments.

Sirius had also responded, and his anger at the rest of Hogwarts had been palatable in the barely legible, slightly crumpled letter.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _If the rest of Hogwarts doesn't want you they can go fuck themselves. I'm on your side pup, throughout it all. I have enclosed books handwritten by the marauders on how to become an animagus, and I think you should start your journey. Do you think you can meet me on the 22nd by floo for the Chamber? Around one in the morning. I'll need the floo code sent._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

Life settled for a while after that. Harry and his friends continued to train and practice fighting. Harry was getting better at using transfiguration in duels, though he still preferred charms and curses. They had an amazing Hogsmeade weekend, though Harry had been temporarily awestruck by Lyra's stunning silver tank shirt, black pants, and silver cuff bracelet.

Dean had laughed in private at him, causing Harry to send a small stinging jinx at him. He didn't like Lyra. Right? Harry honestly wasn't completely sure what if felt like to like someone. Was it butterflies, like the ones he got when Lyra was hugging him?

* * *

Harry crept through the forest under his invisibility cloak, following Hagrid. The half-giant had told him that since Harry was underage, he had no qualms about helping him, and taken him to the forest. Was it just him, or was it getting hotter?

A loud roar interrupted his thoughts and Harry spun around to see dragons.

Dragons.

His mind blanked out for a second and then he was diving behind a tree. Were the organizers of the tournament insane? Dear Merlin, he didn't know what he was going to do. A dragon shot a flame in his direction, and Harry identified the blue-purple shade of pure fire, one that only Hebridean Blacks sent out.

That was one.

He crept around and found another dragon, this one with spikes all over was only twenty feet long, and Harry identified a Peruvian Vipertooth. Dodging a gout of flame that nearly hit him to went a little further in, hoping to find the last dragon. He sighed when he saw the hard scaled of it.

A Norwegian Ridgeback.

He crept back to the castle, entering the Chamber for his floo call.

Sitting next to the fire, he started on the book he found about dragons in the library, since he had a lot of time before it was one.

 _Dragons are an incredibly rare species, and are housed in dragon reserves around the world. All dragons have weaknesses, and ways to be conquered. Females are more aggressive than their male counterparts, and there are ten purebred breeds of dragons._

Harry flipped to the section on Hungarian Horntails. It was nearly ten pages, though most of it was diagrams on the dragon and how it worked.

 _The Hungarian Horntail is one of the most dangerous dragons in existence. It has black scaled and is lizard-like in appearance. It also has yellow eyes and bronze horns/spikes that protrude from its long tail. It has one of the longest fire-breathing ranges (up to 50 feet), though if sprayed with water, it will back down. This is due to the fact that the Horntail is a creature of pure fire, and water will cool it and cause it pain. It's eggs are cement-coloured and hard shelled. The Horntail feeds on goats and sheeps, though it loves humans._

Harry hummed. If he got the horntail he would have to use a mass aguamenti and maybe freeze it in a shell on the dragon. That would take a lot of charm work. Next, the Hebridean Black.

 _The Hebridean Black is native to Great Britain, like the Welsh Green (see page 74). It requires a territory of nearly a hundred square miles per dragon, and is up to thirty feet in length. The Hebridean Black is rough scaled, with brilliant purple eyes and shallow but razor-sharp ridges along it's back. Its tail has an arrow like spike, and it has bat-like wings. This dragon breathes pure fire, a purple-blue color, and is jet black, hence its moniker. The Hebridean Black is prone to dizziness very easily, so on dragon reserves workers take to the air and soar around the dragon in circles, confusing it until if flops to the ground, docile and dizzy._

Harry grinned. This could be one of the best choices, because he could use his Firebolt for this. Hmm, he was only able to take his wand. A summoning charm would do the trick, and he could learn how to brew a fire-resistance potion. Now the Norwegian Ridgeback. Harry was reminded of Norberta, the Ridgeback and Harry and his old friends had smuggled to Romania in order to help Hagrid.

 _The Norwegian Ridgeback is the most dangerous dragon and resembles the Hungarian Horntail (see page 96), though instead of tail spikes it sports prominent black ridges along its back. This dragon, especially aggressive to its own kind, is a muddy green color and lined with hard scales that are nearly impossible to penetrate. It is a rarer breed, and its eggs are black. Though this dragon is strong, it is also easily distracted. A bait of sheep or cows will distract it from protecting its clutch of eggs._

Harry smiled. He would have to learn how to conjure an animal, or transfigure one. He was more for conjuring, since a transfigured animal would be weaker and not last as long.

"Psst, Harry." Sirius's voice came from the fireplace.

"Sirius!" Harry scrambled down, placing the book on the table. "It's so good to see you!"

And it was. Harry had no living relatives and Sirius was the only person he had, his godfather.

"Harry." Sirius laughed warmly in the fireplace. He looked different, with soot coating his hair. "Do you know what the first task is?"

"Dragons." Harry sighed. "I just found out a few hours ago."

Sirius let out a string of curses, none of which were appropriate. "Dragons?! What were they thinking?"

"I asked the same thing." Harry laughed slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. "They have a Hebridean Black, Hungarian Horntail, and Norwegian Ridgeback."

"You're going to have to refresh me on dragon knowledge Harry." Sirius told him.

"The horntail is sensitive to water, the hebridean gets dizzy easily, and the ridgeback is easily distracted by food."

"Well, do you know the aguamenti?" Sirius asked. "I suggest practicing mass water charms, and your flying skills when people are shooting spells at you. Also conjuring of food."

"We think so alike." Harry laughed.

Sirius grinned, and then his face turned serious. "There is more I have to warn you about. Karkaroff is a death eater."

"What?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place...He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay, Viktor's pretty cool though," said Harry slowly. "But...are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he?"

"Are you saying that Karkaroff put my name in the goblet to try to kill me?" Harry asked, his brain trying to piece the puzzle together.

"I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark...and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.

"Exactly...she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry.

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it hook like an accident."

"Looks hike a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning bleaky. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"I have to go!" Sirius said, peeking around his shoulder furtively. "I'm borrowing someone's house! Good luck Harry!" With a pop, he was gone.

Harry stared at the embers of the fireplace until they burnt out, thinking until he fell asleep right there.

* * *

"Ictus!" Lyra screamed, and Harry did a barrel roll to avoid the oncoming spell. They were in the Chamber, and Harry was flying around while the rest shot jinxes at him. The Chamber was big enough for this.

"Aagh!" he yelled as Astoria's well aimed jinx pushed him into the path of Hannah's stinger.

"Dead!" Ginny shouted, sitting on the Statue of Slytherin. "Fifteen minutes though!"

Harry panted, putting his broom to the side. "I'm gonna take a break, and then I want to practice the conjuring."

After a ten minutes break they went to conjuring, Harry doing his best to conjure a simple snail, as it had little to no bones.

"Cochlea sie!" Harry said, nothing happening.

"You have to envision it Harry." Fred told him.

"Imagine the snail appearing." George finished.

"Every single little part of it."

It took a while, but Harry was finally able to conjure a snail.

"You look exhausted; we should stop." Seamus told him.

"It was easy to conjure a rooster in second year." Harry muttered.

"That was partially fuelled by accidental magic though." Lee replied.

* * *

Harry sat in Moody's office, staring at the old man.

"Why do you need to know sir?" he asked. "I don't think you're supposed to help champions."

"You're younger Potter, and at a disadvantage. Krum and Delacour will already know; cheating is a part of the tournament."

"I have a plan." he replied firmly. "And it's none of your business."

With that, he left.


	15. Zarco the Norwegian Ridgeback

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling's

 **Hey guys! A really short chapter today, but it's because I haven't had much time to work. I had a debate tournament to prepare for, and I got first place! The next chapter should be longer, because I am smashing Yule Ball and Second Task together, along with some more Dumbledore interactions. R &R!**

* * *

Harry sat in the tent, tapping his leg and waiting for Bagman to enter. He was in his duelling robes, and he had his wand. His firebolt was ready to be summoned and he had mastered the aguamenti even better than before.

So why was he so nervous?

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves.

Bagman entered, cheerful as usual.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah, yes...your task is to collect the dragon egg!"

Dead silence was met with this words. Harry finally broke it.

"So you want us to go out, face a nesting mother dragon, and steal an egg from her clutch."

Bagman nodded, his pink face rather confused.

"You, and all tournament organizers, are idiots." he proclaimed, before going to sit down.

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - Hebridean Black. It had the number two around its neck And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the Hungarian Horntail. It had a number one around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Norwegian Ridgeback, and the number three. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Krum, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now...Harry...could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"No." Harry replied flatly. "I'm busy."

With those cold words he turned around, subconsciously tracing the wand movements for the conjuring spell. If he could conjure some cows and pigs…

He heard the whistle and Krum stepped outside, his wand grippedi n white-knuckled hands.

He felt much more aware of his body than usual; very aware of the way his heart was pumping fast, and his fingers tingling with fear...yet at the same time, he seemed to be outside himself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away.

"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Hungarian Horntail emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished - it would be Fleur's turn any moment.

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He was left alone.

The same process started again..."Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh...nearly! Careful now...good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more...Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown...more clapping...then, for the third time, the whistle.

He stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallow. He waited. And then he heard the whistle blow. He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Ridgeback, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her bright, green, eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, mud-green lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do...to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance.

He raised his wand.

"Vaccas creo!" he said. "Porcos creo! Ovium creo!" In a burst six animals were conjured: two cows, pigs, and sheep.

At the same time he said a silent summoning charm to summon his invisibility cloak, which flew into his arm. The ridgeback flew at the animals, allowing Harry to drape the cloak around him and cast a silent scent-masking charm.

"And it looks like Mr Potter has distracted the dragon and disappeared from sight!"

Harry ran as fast as he could towards the eggs while keeping the cloak on, barely aware of anything else. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he reached the nest and carefully pulled out a beautiful egg. Then, to his horror, he heard the unmistakable stomping noise of a mother dragon right behind him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around, keeping the egg behind his back and doing his best to hide it in the invisibility cloak using one hand. He was faced with the sight of the mother dragon, her neck slightly above him, breathing heavily.

Harry froze, aware of every acute detail in front of him. He noticed the silence in the stands, the heavy breathing of the ridgeback, and the pink scar down the fleshy neck of the dragon. He felt a tug at his mind, an old memory long forgotten.

" _Oh Look Harry!" Hagrid moaned softly. "Norbert gone and cut himself on the eggshell!"_

" _He's going to be left with a scar, isn't he?" Harry asked, petting the small dragon on the head. Norbert had bonded with him in an amazing way, just like with Hagrid._

But it couldn't be…

" _How's Norbert?" Harry asked Charlie Weasley in his second year summer, wondering for the dragon._

" _Norbert?" the robust boy asked in confusion. "Oh, you mean Norberta! She's doing fine."_

" _She's female?"_

" _Yeah. But you can't tell until she's about six months old."_

"Norberta?" he breathed, looking up at the dragon.

Her head receded, until she was staring right at him. Harry steadily raised his shaking hand, making sure not to scare the Norwegian Ridgeback. She stared at him steadily, her green eyes matching the shade of his emerald orbs, until Harry had a hand rested on her scaled snout.

She snorted and let out a large tongue to give him a long lick. Harry was surprised and ended up with half of his hair sticking up as though he was in the cartoons.

"Hey Norberta." he soothed her, reminded of the task. "I need to go."

She cocked her head to the side, watching as he inched his way away from the nest, masking the scent of the egg with his own. She snorted and flumped towards him all of a sudden, her teeth snapping at him slightly. Harry, startled, dropped the cloak with the egg in it.

"I'm sorry." Harry said softly, raising his hand again.

She cocked her head, her long fangs inches away from his sweating head.

"Please." he continued, taking the fact that he wasn't dead yet for granted. "I need it, and I don't want to hurt you. I'll take care of him."

She breathed silently, glaring, before nuzzling her head into his hand, picking up the egg, and dropping it on the cloak. She licked him one last time and sat down.

"Thank you." Harry grinned broadly, petting her one last time before dashing off.

He didn't hear what Bagman said, all he knew was that Norberta had given him the egg!

"Harry!" Lyra screamed as she barrelled into him, wrapping him in a hug.

Harry laughed, hugging her back and greeting the rest of his friends.

"Blimey." Draco breathed. "It's a real dragon egg."

He loved dragons, like his namesake.

"Mr Potter!" Madame Pomfrey called him, hustling him into the tent. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Harry nodded. He noticed that Viktor had a scratch on his arm and Fleur had burn paste on her legs.

"'Ow did you get past the dragon weezout eet burning you?"

"I recognized the dragon." Harry shrugged. "I was there when she hatched, and we had a bond. I just reignited it and asked her to give me the egg."

He knew that the others might see it as cheating, but they didn't. There was just respect in their eyes.

"Come on, their announcing points!" Hannah told him, and they walked outside.

Dumbledore raised his wand and a nine shot out of the end. Madame Maxime gave him a ten, as did Bagman and Crouch. Karkaroff sneered before shooting out a five from the end of his wand.

"What?" Colin yelped. "He gave Krum a ten!"

"It doesn't matter!" Dennis cheered. "Harry's in first place!"

Harry had 44 points, putting him in the lead.

"Fleur used her veela magic to charm the dragon to sleep, but it let out a snort of fire that burnt her skirt." Ginny narrated. "Krum used his broom to fly around the Horntail and it crashed into a tower, giving him an opportunity to get an egg."

"Harry!" Harry heard the voice of Ron Weasley behind him.

"Wasn't it Potter a while ago?" Harry asked cooly.

He stopped short. "Well yeah, but I figured we're all right now, yeah?"

"Just 'cause I beat the dragon?" Harry sneered.

"Look, we're just trying to apologize." Granger came up behind Weasley.

"Well I don't want your apologies." Harry replied. "I have friends who didn't abandon me, and you're not one of them."

"Look, you're being incredibly ungrateful right now!" Granger grated on him, her voice loud.

"Sure." Harry laughed. "Come on." with that, they left.

* * *

"I can't believe we get to watch a dragon egg hatch." Draco whispered in the Chamber. They were sitting, the egg in a nest in the middle.

"I'm looking at spells and books, but it'll be really hard to take care of a baby Ridgeback for the first month or so. After that they become more independent." Fred stated.

"You'll need warming spells, and he or she will need a lot of meat. Dragon babies also drink milk." George said.

"I'll send a letter to father. He can have the supplies shipped to us." Draco replied, already scribbling on a piece of parchment.

"What do you think: he or she?" Lyra asked.

"It's a he." Luna stated.

"I'll never get how you always know that." Colin shook his head.

"She's a seer." Astoria stated. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Cool." Colin whispered, while Astoria rolled her eyes.

"It's hatching!" Hannah squealed, diverting their attention to the egg. True to her word, a thin line of cracks had appeared in the egg.

They all watched as the line spread further and further down the egg, before a small claw poked through the eggshell.

"Aaaww!" Daphne and Susan cooed as the dragon pushed itself out of the egg, flopping onto the ground with a purring noise.

Harry laughed quietly and fed the small dragon a piece of meat from his hand. Cooing, he used his talons to climb up Harry's arm and hide in his robes, his black scales blending with the black robes.

"What's his name?" Blaise asked.

"What about Zarco?" Harry asked.

"I like it." Lyra grinned.

* * *

Harry took Zarco with him everywhere, and it was clear to all that he was enamoured by the tiny dragon. Zarco was equally loyal to Harry, and even burnt Granger's robes when she snuck up on him. Zarco was growing bigger and bigger.

The group had also found a message in ancient runes hidden on the eggshell of the norwegian ridgeback. They already knew the task was on February 24, but that was all.

 _Come seek us where our voices sound,_

 _We cannot go outside the dark,_

 _And while you're searching ponder this;_

 _We've stolen what you'll sorely miss,_

 _An hour long you'll have to look,_

 _And to recover what we took,_

 _But past an hour, the prospect's black,_

 _Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._

 _Dragon riders heed our call,_

 _Together work or you will fall._

"So what do you think it means?" Lyra asked from her perch in the tree. Luna and Draco were next to her.

"Well they've taken something I'm gonna miss, and I have an hour to find it. It's somewhere in the dark, and we have to ride our dragons to get it. To get the item, we'll have to work together or we'll fail."

"The problem is where the thing will be hidden." Draco said grimly.

"Somewhere in the dark." Lyra hummed. "Underground?"

"Dragon's can't fly there." Harry replied.

"They could built tunnels or something." Lyra offered.

"No." Harry shook his head. "There's something we're missing."

"You must search the Darkling." Luna told him.

"That's it!" he exclaimed. "I know that the Forbidden Forest used to be called the Darkling Woods in the time of Merlin, so it must be in the forest!"

"So some creatures hidden deep in the forest guard the things stolen." Draco surmised, flipping off of the tree.

"Which creatures?" Harry asked.

"We'll figure that out later." Lyra shrugged. "Come on, there's supposed to be an announcement, and Peeves is eavesdropping on the other houses!"=

* * *

"A dance?" Harry asked.

"Do I have to repeat myself." Peeves scowled.

"Come on Harrikins!" Fred cooed.

"It's just a dance!" George finished.

"Does anyone properly know how to dance?" Draco asked.

Surprisingly, only the Slytherins and Susan raised their hands.

"It's part of a pureblood upbringing, for balls." Susan shrugged.

"Let's have lessons!" Daphne squealed. "Come on, pair up!"

Harry grinned and turned to Lyra, smirking teasingly. "A dance, milady."

"Of course." she laughed, curtseying and taking his hand.

Peeves had snatched the record player from the Gryffindors and had a waltz set to it, so everyone started to dance in the chamber.

"Harry you fox." Lee smirked as he passed on Daphne Greengrass's arm, and Harry suddenly became infinitely aware of Lyra's hands on his shoulders, and her waist. He gulped, hoping no one noticed, and gave her what he hoped was a confident smile at her questioning look.

"You look like a bunch of sorry sods BEING CRUICIATED!" Susan bellowed. "FEET SHOULDER WIDTH!"

Yup, there was no doubt about it. He liked her, and now he didn't know what to do. Damn, now he was sweating. The dance ended and he dashed off without trying to appear weird, heading for Luna.

"Hey Luna." he smiled, doing his best to correct his footing as he nearly stepped on her foot.

"There are lots of wrackspurts around your head Harry." she stated, her blue eyes wide.

"It's nothing Luna." he replied.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY ASS ZABINI!" Ginny screeched.

There was silence, before Luna spoke up at the end of the dance. "She likes you too you know."

Before he could respond Susan barked, "OK, class over! We'll meet again next Saturday!"

"Why so flushed Harry?" Dean asked, nudging him with his elbow.

Blaise laughed. "Il povero zotico è innamorato."

"In english." Seamus said.

"The poor sod is in love." Draco translated, coming in from the shadows.

Harry stared, knowing that Draco would be protective of his sister even though she could kick his ass.

"Come on Harry." Draco said quietly. "I've been practicing my big brother talk since third year."

* * *

Harry took a sharp turn on his broom and hovered above the pitch. Damn, could Draco be scary with his threats. Saddest part was Draco didn't even threaten him.

He said he would let Lyra have her free way with him and Harry wouldn't get any help. He smirked. They both knew that if he hurt her, Draco's anger would be nothing on Lyra.

" _I swear Harry, if you hurt her she will tie you up and beat your sorry ass to a pulp, and then start cursing you. I'm just not going to help you or stop her at all."_

He shuddered. He knew exactly how scary she could be. Last time she got really mad at the twins and Lee, or as they called themselves the Mini-Marauders, there was hell to pay. They had been in the hospital wing for three days, and never crossed her again.

The last Hogsmeade trip had been quiet, to say the least. All the girls had gone off to shop for the Yule Ball, so the boys were left alone, seeing as all of them just had dress robes shipped from Madame Malkins.

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter. Harry was glad of its fires and thick walls every time he passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. He thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too. Hagrid, he noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey.

Harry had gone even further in his usual gift of fabrics to the elves and had worked with the rest of his house to bake them brownies as thanks for their help in keeping House Hedwig fed.

Harry had been planning to check out the forest for threats, but was more distracted by the fact that he still didn't have a date for the Yule Ball. Luna was going with Draco, Daphne with Blaise, and Dean had even caught Seamus. They had decided that if they would be outcasts, they would do it their way.

Everyone in the house had cheered as Dean relented and agreed to go with Seamus to the ball. Susan and Hannah were going with Fred and George, and Lee with Ginny.

He sighed slightly and sat down on the Astronomy Tower, looking out at the sunset. He heard footsteps behind him, but he knew that it was Lyra.

"Hey." she murmured, looking out at the sunset with him.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Yeah." she smirked. "Nott tried to ask me to the ball, you know? I obviously turned him down."

"Do you even have a date?" Harry asked, turning to face her.

"No." she shrugged. "You?"

Harry was silent, wondering if he could have the guts to ask her. He gulped. He could do this, he could do this.

"WillyougototheYuleBallwithme?" he blurted out, wincing at the confused expression on her face.

"Slower Harry." she replied.

He gulped again, his throat dry. "Will you go to the Ball with me?"

He winced again, watching Lyra's face. To his relief, she smiled. "I'd love to."

"Oh thank Merlin." he sighed, flopping onto the ground. "You know how hard it was for me to ask you?"

"Well you needn't have worried." she laughed. "We should get back."

Harry looked out at the now dark sky and grinned that he had gotten to go with Lyra. Maybe the Ball wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Harry sat in his bed, looking at the pile of presents. He could hardly remember a time when the Dursley's gifted him toothpicks, not with the gifts his friends gave him. His dress robes had arrived too, and he put them aside while popping a chocolate frog in his mouth. He had received a good number of books, a leather cuff, and candy.

Colin and Dennis had gotten together and sent him all the pictures they had taken that year to put in his photo album, and Dean had gone through Slytherin's books and made a painting for the entire room, one of the Salazar Slytherin. It had yet to wake up, because that would take a decade or so.

"Snowball fight?" Blaise asked from across the room.

Harry smiled widely. "Yeah."

* * *

"Three hours?" Seamus scoffed. "Why the hell do the girls need three hours to get ready? And why are Colin and Dennis with them?"

"They're helping out. The girls want a photoshoot done or something."

 _Meanwhile, in the Girl's Dorm_

"WHERE'S THE BLOODY HAIRBRUSH?" Susan shrieked.


	16. Barty Crouch Junior

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey! Finally updated. I'm afraid the next update will be really late, because after this I have my play, then I go to DC, then I have finals. Hopefully I can get some shit done.**

* * *

"So, who do you think is screaming?" Draco asked.

"Ten galleons it's Susan." Harry smirked. "Girl's got lungs."

"I'd take you up on that bet." Astoria smirked.

The young girl was not going to the ball, mostly because she preferred to read and eat ice cream. Astoria sparkled, just sparkled through life. She gave no damn about her actions, as long as she was happy. She was a Slytherin, but could have been a Gryffindor.

Finally the boys went up and got ready for the Yule Ball. Harry donned black robes with emerald green trimming that matched his eyes, and allowed Draco to attempt something on his hair. The blonde boy quit after five minutes, deciding that Harry's hair was impossible.

"Ready?" Blaise asked, in midnight blue robes.

"One minute!" Draco called, still brushing his locks.

"Merlin mate, you take forever." Dean groaned, already holding Seamus' hand.

"I do not!" Draco shouted indignantly, abandoning the comb and walking down the stairs behind Fred.

Fred, George, Lee, Harry, Draco, Blaise, Dean, and Seamus all descended the stairs before waiting for Susan, Hannah, Luna, Lyra, Ginny, and Daphne. Astoria, Colin, and Dennis were not attending.

The girl's descended the stairs, and Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared at Lyra. She was a ghost. A floating wisp of shadow in a flowing layered dress of black and white. Her hair had grown to its original length thanks to a potion or charm or something, and was in a long fancy braid over her shoulder that was braided with flowers. Her eyelids shimmered silver like her eyes, and her lips were a darker red than Harry had ever seen them.

"Are you going to say anything?" she asked him.

"Words can't express your beauty." he said finally.

She blushed lightly, before laughing. "Charmer. Come on, the others are coming."

Susan was fire. She was bright and flaming, a badger in lion's clothing. She was in in a red piece with a poofy skirt that left her shoulders bare, and highlighted the redness of her own red hair, which was in a fancy bun. Her lips were red like fire, and her lids golden like a Gryffindor.

Daphne was darkness and mystery, someone with secrets. Daphne had on a black dress that faded to blue with one diamond encrusted shoulder strap, leaving the other bare. Except for a braid across her head, her blonde hair had been curled and left loose. Her makeup was dramatic and bold.

Ginny was a princess. The usual tomboy looked like a queen, where the high necked torso of her dress was covered in an intricate pattern of gems, leaving a peach colored silk skirt plain. Her red hair was loose, with nothing in it. She wore no makeup except for something on her lips.

Hannah, Hannah was a Hufflepuff. She looked radiant and fair in a light pink dress that poofed at the skirt, and the top had a silver and black gem pattern. Her hair was in a braid where every strand was bigger than usual, but Harry wasn't sure what it was called. She had pink shimmer on her eyelids and some shiny item on her lips.

Luna, well, Luna was an ice queen. Harry wasn't sure what they had done to her, but her dress was pale blue with a sheer outer shell that flowed behind her like she was Elsa from Frozen, with bare shoulders. Her hair was in an Elsa style braid too, and her lids purple, lips pink.

He sighed. "Whose idea was it to make Luna look like Elsa?" he asked.

"Mine." Colin smirked. "I had to. The dress was perfect."

"So you dressed her up as a Disney Princess." Harry scoffed, though a smile was twitching at his lips.

"She looks really pretty." Draco shrugged.

Harry grinned at Draco, remembering the big brother talk he had given the blonde. It had involved some very painful groin related curses he had researched, and leaving him in the Forbidden Forest.

"Ready to go?" Fred asked, taking Susan's hand.

"Let's show them." Hannah laughed, and they all exited to the dance.

* * *

Harry wished to preserve the schools' shocked faces when they entered the dance. He could already see Weasley muttering mutinously about the fact that he was with a Slytherin. Cedric was with a Ravenclaw named Cho Chang. According to Luna Cho had never really intereacted with her. Viktor was, to his utmost surprise, with Granger, who had cleaned up nicely and wore a periwinkle dress.

Fleur was with a Ravenclaw named Roger Davies, who was staring infatuatedly at her. She had on a silver dress. He sat at the head table with Cedric and Cho at a table meant for four.

How were they supposed to order food though?

He looked and saw Dumbledore look at the menu and say "Pork Chops" clearly, and pork chops appeared on his plate.

He shrugged and turned to his own plate, thinking before stating, "Tomato Soup and ham."

Lyra was eating Tuna with potatoes.

"So, How is Ravenclaw?" Harry asked Cho, grinning at Lyra while she talked with Cedric about the semantics of the stunning spell.

"Nice." the Asian fifth year told him. "A lot of the kids still hate you, but after the Chamber incident I thought it was stupid."

The conversation continued, turning to spells to dragon training. Zarco had grown bigger, and was now unable to fit in Hogwarts. He stayed in the Chamber, and the House Elves were carving a tunnel to the Forbidden Forest for him. Soon dinner was over and they were getting ready to dance.

"My lady." Harry bowed, holding his hand out to Lyra.

She took it and they went to the dance floor. A waltzing tune started up, and they swept across the dance floor, in sync thanks to Susan's dance lessons. Lyra, with her wide dress, looked for the world like an ancient princess of shadows.

"This is nice." Lyra smiled as he twirled her.

"Yeah." he replied, grinning.

The song ended and the Weird Sisters, the band, struck up a more lively tune. Harry laughed as he and Lyra pulled themselves along the dance floor, twirling around. Lyra's dress, when she twirled, made a huge radius around her.

After a third song they stopped for a drink.

"I'm gonna go dance with the others. After all, we all agreed that everyone would dance together."

Harry danced with all the other girls while Lyra danced with the other guys as friends. The Hall was beautiful, with icy decorations, fairy lights, and evergreen everywhere. He had been unable to withhold his snicker when Luna had gotten too into character for Elsa and frozen Weasley's eyebrows for insulting her.

Soon people began trickling out of the dance, and Harry and Lyra were left dancing to a slow tune.

"This is nice." she breathed in his ear.

"Yeah." Harry whispered. "Wanna go outside?"

The two of them walked outside, stopping in a patch of flowery trees.

"My lady." Harry bowed, holding out his hand and smirking slightly when Lyra took it.

There was no music, but it was nice. Harry looked down and thought about what it would feel like to kiss her. He gulped slightly. He could see many ways for that to go wrong.

"Harry?" Lyra murmured, looking up slightly.

"Yeah?" he whispered, acutely aware of the fact that she was getting closer and closer and

They were kissing now, lightly. It was nothing more than a sprinkle of stardust, skin, and flowers under the moon, but it was _so much_.

They pulled apart and Harry's lips curled up in a smile. Lyra smiled back at him.

There was nothing to be said

* * *

"So, I've been scoping the Forbidden Forest when taking Zarco for practice rides." Harry said, leaning against the tree. "The way I see it, the biggest threats are the centaurs and acromantulas. I've also been doing research, and the centaurs would never cooperate with humans. They look down on us."

"Centaurs are pretty against human interaction." Draco nodded. "They sometimes interact with animagi that gain their trust, but other than that they seclude themselves."

"Did you ever figure out your animagus?" Lyra asked.

Harry grinned. "I've been meditating, and I finally found it. I'm a thunder wolf."

"Nice." Draco grinned.

"I've done research, and magical animagi are really common, since we are magical people. It's more uncommon for people to turn into something without magic." Lyra said.

"Really?" Harry asked. "What's McGonagall then?"

"She's a Kneazle. Sirius Black was a Grim, and your father was a stag that followed Cernunnos, a celtic god with antlers. Pettigrew was a magically bred rat, which meant he had tracking skills."

"Do you know any non-magical animagi?" Harry asked.

"There are very few, but I believe Arcturus Black was an eagle, and Dorea Potter was a lion."

"No, she was a nemean lion." Draco corrected, "but her great aunt Cedrella Black was a tigress."

"There was a Japanese Wizard a while back who was a house cat, and another Indian witch who was a cobra." Lyra said.

"Do you know yours?" Harry asked.

"I'm a runespoor." Lyra shrugged.

"I'm an albino peacock." Draco replied, scowling slightly at Harry's laughter. "They're magical creatures, since they don't appear in the muggle world."

"A Cheshire Cat." Luna said. "And before you bring up that stupid muggle cartoon, they based it on us. A Cheshire Cat is actually a multicolored cat with the ability to apparate even in animal form, though it takes more time and ends in the smile disappearing. They are generally used as spies."

"Only you Luna." Harry laughed.

"The next step is to work on the actual transformation." Lyra said.

"Then let's do it!" Harry cheered.

* * *

"Bring me some chocolate frogs." Astoria told them before they went out the Hogsmeade.

Daphne laughed at her little sister before waving goodbye and going off. Ginny was staying for a game of quidditch with Harry, Fred, George, Lee, Susan, Lyra, and Draco. If they could, they would make their own quidditch team next year. Draco, Ginny, and Lyra were amazing chasers. Susan was a keeper, Fred and George were beaters, and Harry was a seeker.

He flipped around and ducked under a bludger, thinking about the race. He had been flying Zarco every available day, training to be faster. Zarco refused a saddle, so Harry had learned to hold on with his hands and arms. When he wanted to go somewhere, he tilted that way and yelled the direction in Zarco's ear.

The day of the task was coming up, and Harry was working on acromantula repellants like crazy. He had already gotten a bezoar from Snape, in case he was poisoned, and had finally perfected the fiendfyre spell, and its countercurse. As acromantulas could best be repelled by fire, he had also worked on smaller fire spells, and fireballs.

"Ready?" Lyra asked, conjuring a swarm of spiders.

Harry grinned, and she enlarged them. He immediately shot out with the fiendfyre curse, thankful for the protections on the Chamber Walls. "Maledictus ignis!" he shouted, watching as the flames spewed from his wand.

"Finis Enim." he said again, watching as the flames stopped and the ashes of the charred spiders floated to the ground.

"Beautiful, really." Lyra whispered, taking his hand from next to him.

Harry smiled softly and turned around to kiss her.

"So, what are we?" Lyra asked.

"Happy."

"That's so cheesy!" Draco groaned from the side.

* * *

"Ready?" Blaise asked him grimly. Harry was in front of the Forbidden Forest with Zarco, who was chowing down on some pork.

Stands had been levitated into the air and shielded from any damage. Students were flying up on carriages and taking their seats. He looked around, fidgeting slightly in his black and purple robes, the colors of House Hedwig. Fleur Delacour was in blue, and Krum in red. Both were talking to friends.

"Where's Lyra?" Harry asked Draco.

"I dunno. She was called up to the office last night and I never saw her return."

"They said that they've taken what I'll sorely miss." Harry mused.

"You don't think…" Draco paled.

Luna walked up and looked at Harry, her gaze blank. "Beware betrayal of the black and red!" She told him, her eyes unfocused. "Help can be found with the halves."

She walked off, still slightly out of it.

"They took Lyra, didn't they." Harry whispered to Draco.

"If they did this will be harder. She would never be tied up in an Acromantula Nest willingly, so they have to have her restrained somehow, or under a magical coma."

Harry ground his teeth, hating the idea of Lyra at the mercy of acromantulas.

"IS EVERYONE READY?" Ludo Bagman shouted, on a hovering platform with Dumbledore, Maxine, Karkaroff, and Crouch.

Harry took a deep breath and mounted Zarco, noticing the other Champions do the same. Krum's Horntail was the biggest by far, and Fleur's Hebridean Black the smallest, however, Ridgebacks were some of the fastest dragons alive.

"THREE, TWO, ONE, GOO!" Bagman bellowed, and Zarco was off like a shot.

They raced into the forest, staying high above the trees as the trees were obstacles. From his escapades into the forest he already knew where the nest was, and he went straight in that direction. Looking around, he saw Fleur and Krum following him, and he cursed.

Of course they would, he was a Hogwarts student and knew the layout. Then again, the message said they had to work together…

He sighed and continued, glad that Zarco's training meant the Norwegian Ridgeback already knew the path to the lair. Soon they reached it, and Harry was glad to know he still had 45 minutes to retrieve Lyra. He hopped of Zarco and lit the end of his wand, looking around for the champions.

Finally, he found the hostages, all in a spider web. Surprisingly, they were all wrapped from head to toe, just like in the muggle trilogy Lord of the Rings.

"Damn." he cursed under breath, rushing forward. As he couldn't tell whose hostage was whose, he cut all three of them loose and yanked the spider webs off of their faces.

Granger, a small blonde girl, and Lyra were there. He picked Lyra up and put her on Zarco's back, but before he could continue an acromantula dropped from the tree. He couldn't tell what it was trying to say, but the menacing way it was advancing on him made its intent clear.

"Incendio!" he bellowed, catching the spider off guards and burning it up.

More spiders dropped from the trees and Harry's heart dropped,

Betrayal. This was what Luna had meant.

Viktor and Fleur came next to him, the three dragons surrounding them. All the hostages were draped on the dragons, but the spells the judges had put on them were strong.

"Fire." was the only thing Harry said, before he struck out with fiendfyre.

It took all of Harry's strength to control the cursed fire, and he kept it in a protective circle around the three, while Fleur and Viktor slowly took down the spiders. Any spider that was foolish enough to come near the fiendfyre would be consumed, and even the dragons were helping with fire from above.

"The trees!" Fleur screamed, and Harry whipped around to see a tree falling, its branches all burning.

In his distraction a spider had pounced on him, and Harry yelled in pain as it bit into his arm. He pulled out the bezoar and downed it, letting off fire spells rapidly.

"Dragons!" Viktor bellowed, and they all ran to their dragons as quick as they could.

Zarco shielded Harry with fire as he climbed onto the dragon, and holding Lyra tight he shot off, leaving the burning forest behind him. They all reached the edge of the castle quickly and dismounted.

"AND A THREE WAY TIE BETWEEN POTTER, DELACOUR, AND KRUM!" Bagman bellowed.

"HOLD IT!" Harry bellowed, jumping of Zarco and walking forward. Draco and the others were helping Lyra out, but Harry had one goal.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded. "The acromantulas tried to kill us all, including the hostages. Now half the forest is burning down."

"My boy, we were sure no harm would come to any of you."

"I highly doubt that Dumbledore." Lucius Malfoy sneered, walking up. "Why was I not informed that my daughter was to be used as a hostage in the tournament?"

The crowd quieted.

"Dumblydore?" Maxine asked. "I informed Mrs. Delacour."

"And I to Miss Granger." Karkaroff growled.

"I was unaware we were supposed to, we never discussed it." Dumbledore defended himself.

"It's common sense!" Narcissa scoffed. "You kidnapped my daughter and put her at risk!"

"I assure you, I had no idea it would be taken this way." Dumbledore attempted to reassure them.

"This isn't over." Lucius sneered.

It was clear a few days later what Lucius had meant. Thanks to the kidnapping, the Malfoys were filing a lawsuit against Dumbledore for harassment and kidnapping. Lyra had been called up to talk the Dumbledore, but she refused to budge on the matter.

Harry's duelling lessons had escalated, and he was now practicing duelling Flitwick and Snape together, since Snape was helping out. He hoped to add Tonks to the mix, since she was guarding Hogwarts during the tournament. He had also started a more consistent dialogue with Sirius.

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _The tournament has gone well. I'm dating Lyra now, just so you know. How are you? Please stay safe, and do your best to stay fed. If you aren't, I can have Dobby bring food over to your location. I'll just need a vial of blood so Dobby can link to your location._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _()()()_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Life is good. I am on a tropical island, and it's warm, but the food is scarce. Your offer sounds great. How is the rest of Hogwarts? Stay safe pup, and hopefully I'll be free soon._

 _Love,_

 _Padfoot_

Harry wandered around, before deciding to go to the kitchen.

"Hey guys!" He said brightly, grinning at the elves. He made his usual rounds and picked up a cookie before noticing an elf in the corner, crying and clutching a bottle of butterbeer. "Who's that?"

"That is Winky Master Harry sir." Dobby replied. "She was fired by her master so she is pining."

Harry felt horrible for the small elf, who was clearly in bad condition based on her bloodshot eyes and stained clothes. He walked forward, crouching slightly to be at her level.

"Hey Winky." he said gently. "I'm Harry."

"Hello Mr. Harry." Winky said quietly, hiccupping.

"Why are you so sad? Your master abandoned you, shouldn't you try to help Hogwarts?"

"Mr. Crouch is a good master!" she shrilled.

Harry sighed and walked away.

"She is dying Master Harry." Dobby whispered. "She is needing a master."

"Would I be able to do it?" Harry asked.

"She is not in her right mind, she is still clinging to her master." Dobby said.

"But then wouldn't that be without consent?" Harry asked.

"No!" Dobby replied, shaking his head so vigorously his large ears flapped. "Winky is needing it."

Half an hour later Harry was the owner of the now sane Winky the House Elf, and she was working with Dobby on improving the Chamber even more. They had found another room emerging from the columns that led to the main chamber, and they were thinking of turning it into a duelling chamber and making the common room in the Chamber.

The girls wanted to add better showers, because currently they were small and old fashioned, though the elves were trying to improve it.

Harry had also given Winky the duty of bringing food to Sirius every day and every meal, and he was improving a lot, according to his letters. Sirius was now coming closer to Hogwarts, and using his animagus form to stay hidden.

The workload was mounting higher as the Easter Holidays came up, and Harry was eager to visit the Burrow again, though not as Ron's friend, but with Fred, George, and Ginny. Lee was also staying at the Burrow that break.

Break finally came and Harry boarded the train with his friends, passing time by engaging in a riveting round of exploding snap and wizarding poker. It was just like muggle poker, except the chips were enchanted and had galleon, sickle, and knut values. The cards were also different, with Merlin, Morgana, Arthur, and Mordred instead of King, Queen, Jack, and Ace.

They reached the stop and Mrs. Weasley came to pick them up, smiling at them all affectionately and taking them to the Burrow, though Ron glared at him the entire time.

"Food's amazing like always Mrs. Weasley." Harry grinned at dinnertime.

She smiled. "And how have you been Harry dear? I know you spent the summer with Malfoys," at this her nose wrinkled, "but you are always welcome here."

"I know." Harry nodded, "It's like my house, but Draco and Lyra are my friends."

"Just be happy Harry." Mrs. Weasley smiled affectionately.

"You're alright with this?" Ron scoffed. "The Malfoys are horrible!"

"They're good people if you got to know them." Harry replied.

"Yeah." Fred grinned.

"Lyra's the only person who dodges our pranks most of the time." George finished.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, before looking at all of them. "Harry, I'm not going to pretend and say that I enjoy your interactions with the Malfoys - The Malfoy and Weasley feud has been racing for generations; however, if you enjoy your time with them, and you are happy, I will not object. You are practically my son."

Harry got rather misty eyed and hugged her.

Ron glared. "He doesn't even approve of Dumbledore!"

The Weasley matriarch sighed again. "I will not say that I approve of Dumbledore or Harry's actions, but I will not get in the middle. I am there for you Harry, but I will not abandon Dumbledore."

"Like always Mrs. W." Lee laughed, shaking his dark dreadlocks.

Harry just grinned. He had been scared she would hate him, but she didn't. She just didn't want to pick a side- she was there for everyone.

Easter went by quickly, in a blur of quidditch games, exploding snap, pranks, gobstones, chess, poker, and food. Harry walked away from the entire debacle with ten galleons, courtesy of Fred and George, who he beat at Poker.

Finally they came back to Hogwarts, and Harry was immersed in classes, duelling with Flitwick, Snape, and Tonks, and practice for the tournament. Harry had long ago gone beyond NEWT level duelling with charms and spells, though his Transfiguration work could still be worked on. He was getting better though.

One evening he was called to the Quidditch Pitch, and he walked down, saying bye to the rest of his friends.

"What have they done?" he asked himself in horror, staring at the pitch.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice. Ludo Bagman walked onto the pitch with Fleur and Viktor, the latter looking just as horrified at the desecration of the quidditch pitch.

"You have desecrated the pitch." Viktor said, his voice deep.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Harry climbed over the last hedge he had explored. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry's face, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Then -

"Maze," grunted Krum.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks. "

"We seemply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures. . . then there will be spells that must be broken. . . all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champion who is leading on points will get a head start into the maze. " Bagman grinned at Harry. "Then Mr. Krum will enter. . . then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, he nodded politely like the other champions.

"Very well. . . if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly. . . "

Harry nodded and started ambling back to the castle, only to be interrupted by Barty Crouch. He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see. He reminded Harry vividly of an old tramp he had seen once when out shopping with the Dursleys. That man too had been conversing wildly with thin air; Aunt Petunia had seized Dudley's hand and pulled him across the road to avoid him; Uncle Vernon had then treated the family to a long rant about what he would like to do with beggars and vagrants.

"Mr. Crouch?" Harry asked, inching forward.

"I've done. . . stupid. . . thing. . . " Mr. Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must. . . tell. . . Dumbledore. . . "

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Harry loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"

Mr. , Crouch's eyes rolled forward onto Harry.

"Who. . . you?" he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school," said Harry. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Crouch was pulling him closer; Harry tried to loosen Crouch's grip on his robes, but it was too powerful.

"Warn. . . Dumbledore. . . "

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Harry. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him. . . . "

Harry sighed slightly and conjured his wolf patronus, sending the message to Dumbledore saying " _I have Crouch, he looks mad, you are needed."  
_ Harry stayed by the old man, tuning out his nonsensical babbling and keeping a lookout. He heard a twig crack behind him and he spun around, only to see no one there.

His eyes narrowed, and he waved his wand in a wide arc, letting out a stream of paint. He snarled when he saw a person outlined by the colorful purple paint and he let off a barrage of spells that caught the intruder off guard, because he had paint in his eyes. The intruder let loose some spells, but Harry dodged them.

Immediately he stunned and bound the intruder, wiping paint and the disillusionment charm off. He realized that it was silent, and he turned around to see Crouch lying on the ground, a bloody gash in his stomach.

"Shit." Harry gasped, skidding down and attempting some crude healing charms.

It was too late.

Crouch let out a last bloody gurgle and whispered in a hoarse voice, "The Dark Lord. My son. I made a mistake."

Harry hissed in sadness as Crouch died. He barely heard Dumbledore and Snape walked up, only to find Harry with a bound intruder and a dead Bartemius Crouch.

"I was too late." Harry stated, his voice dead. "I stopped the intruder, but one of the spells that I dodged caught him, and I wasn't able to save him."

"Let us see who the intruder is." Dumbledore said, casting a number of revealing charms. "It's Moody!"

"Polyjuice." Snape stated, sniffing the flask at his waist. "We will have to wait for him to transform."

Right as if on cue, the intruder started shuddering, his body changing. The fake eye popped out, his wrinkles receded, a real leg replaced the fake, and he became taller. Snape hissed when he saw the person.

"Barty Crouch Junior." Dumbledore announced gravely. "Shall we take this to my office?"

They hiked up in silence, Crouch suspended behind them like a grotesque marionette. His straw blonde hair was floppy, and his eyes a murky entered the office and fed Crouch Veritaserum.

"What is your name?" Dumbledore asked.

"Bartemius Crouch Junior."

"Parents?" he asked again.

"Bartemius Horace Crouch and Melania Dahlia Crouch nee Stretton."

"How did you escape from Azkaban?"

"My mother was dying, and my father would do anything to help her. They used Polyjuice on her, making her look like me, and I got out. My father put me under the Imperius curse to keep me under control, but Winky was kind, and let me out sometimes. My mother died after a while."

"What other actions have you taken for the Dark Lord?"

"Winky had taken me to the Quidditch World Cup, and I found a wand lying around in the chaos. I picked it up and cast the Dark Mark. I also put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire, so that the Dark Lord could use his blood to resurrect himself." the man gave a maniacal grin. "The Dark Lord will rise again."

Harry growled and stunned the man silently, basking in the silence that had overtaken the room.

"We need to take him to the Ministry." he stated calmly after a while. "I can take him."

"Harry I don't think you should be leaving the school." Dumbledore reprimanded him.

"I have better relations with the Minister than you." Harry replied, knowing that the Minister thought Dumbledore interfered too much.

Dumbledore sighed, knowing what Harry said was true, and gave a nod. Harry grinned and dived into the floo, yelling, "Ministry of Magic!"

He spun through the floo and landed in the atrium. Pausing to admire the huge statue in the middle, one with wizards, goblins, elves, and centaurs all equal, he walked to the Minister's office. Not paying attention, he bumped into a person and groaned as she fell to the floor.

"Are you alright? He asked.

"Wotcher Harry!" she greeted cheerfully, her bubblegum pink hair turning the same shade of green as his eyes.

Harry laughed. "Hey Tonks." he greeted. "I'm up to the Minister's office. Wanna come with?"

"Why?" she asked as they walked to his office.

"We found Barty Crouch Junior alive." Harry shrugged.

Tonks choked on air and stumbled over her own feet, catapulting in front before righting herself. "Seriously?" she turned her head to look at him.

"Yeah." he nodded as they reached the office. He turned open the knob after knocking and entered, smiling softly at the Minister.

"Harry!" Cornelius Fudge boomed, adjusting his green bowler hat. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Minister." Harry said evenly, taking a seat next to Tonks on a cushy seat. "If you are the understand the gravity of the situation I am about the describe, you must keep an open mind. Can you do that?"

Fudge's smile faded, but he sat down and sighed. "Tell me."

And so Harry did. He related everything, from his encounter with Voldemort in his first year, to his murder of the basilisk and second encounter with Tom Riddle, or Voldemort. He talked about how Barty Crouch Junior had showed up, and everything he has said.

At the end of it all, Fudge gave a tremulous laugh, wiping his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. "You are joking Harry, please?"

Harry shook his head grimly. "Minister, I beg you to take action. Voldemort will rise, and when he does we will need to be prepared. Minister, if we unite we can fight him. You can be the brave Minister who fought during the second war, and helped us to victory."

Fudge looked at him, before nodding assent. "You-Know-Who will return, but I cannot announce it without proof."

"Bolster the auror forces." Tonks piped up. "We barely get any funds, with with some money we could afford better gear and more training equipment."

"I'd been willing to donate." Harry offered.

"Tell Amelia." Tonks said again.

"Lucius Malfoy, Amelia Bones, and Rufus Scrimgeour." Harry said.

"Very well Harry." Fudge said. "I hope that this risk will reap rewards. Now you said that Barty Crouch Junior was in Dumbledore's office?"

"Yeah." he replied. "He's subdued, but we need to find the real Moody. Snape and Dumbledore said they'd do that while I told you about the situation."

They walked to the DMLE and got Amelia Bones, then flooed to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore and Snape were still there, only Madame Pomfrey was also present.

"Good." she huffed once they were all in. Fudge opened his mouth and she glared at him until he shut it with an audible click. "Mad Eye Moody was found in a chest in his quarters, under the Imperius Curse and with his hair missing. He will be good to teach again by next year, but he will be in recovery for several months."

"This is disturbing." Bones said, eyeing Crouch Junior. "I will take him to the DMLE holding cells."

After that the entire incident was wrapped up, and it was told that Tonks would be taking over the DADA class since she was already positioned at Hogwarts half the time as a guard.

"Well that's over." Tonks grinned, ambling with him to the duelling chamber.

He had given the password to her, Flitwick, and Snape so they could properly duel in the Chamber.

"Ready?" he asked, facing all three of them, his wand out and ready.

Without warning Snape let off an array of spells and Harry shielded them all, unleashing a fog smokescreen and disillusioning himself. They wiped the fog away but Harry was already behind them, and took Flitwick out before he could notice.

Flipping around he dodged a blood-boiler from Snape and a heart-attack from Tonks, sending them both a knife shower that they dodged. He flipped and screamed, "Serpensortia!", before watching about a dozen snakes appear.

 _Incapacitate._ He hissed, and the snakes went for the other two.

They took Tonks down, but Snape burnt all of the snakes going for him, and Harry was left with one opponent. This was easier for Harry, and he let off a wave of spells that were all harmless before unleashing the Demon's Fist from above on Snape, knocking him sideways.

Harry stood, panting, before letting out a grin of elation and a whoop. This was the first time he had beaten all three of them! He quickly revived and untied them.

"Good job Harry." Professor Flitwick grinned. "If you can repeat this we can start on more opponents."

"Acceptable." Snape stated, emotionless as always.

"Awesome Harry!" Tonks cheered, her hair bright pink again. "Good use of snakes!"

* * *

Harry pet Zarco idly, wondering what would happen during the third task. The maze was there, yes, and growing, but when Harry had tried to fly over it and get a layout he realized that the maze changed shape every day, making it impossible for him to memorize it.

He instead concentrated on studying the weaknesses of magical animals, since Dean had told him that Hagrid was in charge of lots of different creatures for the task.

 _Harry,_

 _Are you safe? I was so worried when I heard you confronted Barty Crouch Junior. He was an new death eater back in the day, but with insanity to rival that of Bellatrix Lestrange's._

 _Stay Safe,_

 _Sirius_


	17. Lord Voldemort

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! I'm finally back from DC, and I just pounded out most of the chapter, so I hope you enjoy. Things are finally heating up.**

* * *

Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, Harry had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"Its' over." he grinned at Dean; but just then. Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" said Harry.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them. "

She moved away.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" he asked Seamus blankly.

"Dunno," said Seamus. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later. "

Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and cross to the side chamber. Krum slouched off to join her shortly afterward. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family - no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Fleur stuck his head out.

"Harry, come on, zey're waiting for you!"

Utterly perplexed. Harry got up. The Dursleys couldn't possibly be here, could they? He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.

Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father's hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

"Surprise!" Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry!" She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"You all right?" said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. "Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Ridgeback. "

Fleur Delacour, Harry noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. Harry could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley. "I thought for a moment - the Dursleys -"

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.

"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks. "

"Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?" said Bill.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. He bumped into Draco on the way out.

"Hey mate." Draco grinned. "Father says he couldn't come and apologizes: politics in the Ministry. They took your recommendation and boosted the Auror Corps!"

Then, Draco noticed the Weasley's with Harry and stiffened imperceptibly.

"Mrs. Weasley." he stated.

She looked at him, her lips pursed, before sighing. "You hurt Harry and I'll come after you, hear me?"

Draco looked surprised, then grinned. "If I hurt him it's my sister I have to be worried about."

Bill grinned. "I hear you. Last time Ron pissed Ginny off he had to go the Saint Mungos because she found a way to make bat bogies attack him. Wandlessly, in accidental magic."

"It's worse." Draco smirked. "Lyra snitched a book from the Malfoy Libraries on groin related hexes that father hid away because of the last time mother got angry at him."

"We have exams!" Blaise bellowed at him across the hall, and Draco waved before dashing off.

Both Weasley's looked faintly surprised at seeing a Malfoy so normal, but they got over it. Harry spent the rest of the day with them, laughing. They all ate in the Champion Table with the rest of House Hedwig. Viktor had some friends from Slytherin and Bulgaria with him, and Fleur had her Beauxbatons friends.

"You've prepared, right?" Lyra asked him worriedly as he donned his graphorn duelling robes and polished his wand.

"Yeah." he replied, turning around to take her hand. "I'll be fine Lyra, I promise."

She smiled and they kissed, before breaking apart and going to the maze.

"Good luck." she whispered before leaving for the stands.

Now it was just Harry and Dumbledore.

"Harry, I must talk to you about your training and whatnot. I feel as though you are being robbed of your childhood." he said.

Harry scoffed. "The moment Voldemort killed my parents I was robbed of my childhood."

The cannon sounded and he walked out to tumultuous cheering from all of Hogwarts. The House Hedwig stand had a huge banner made by Dean with HARRY POTTER, TRIWIZARD CHAMPION emblazoned on it.

"On my whistle Harry, Fleur, Viktor." Bagman told them.

He gave a short whistle blast and the three walked forward, stopping at the crossroads.

"Good luck." he said before taking the left path. Fleur took the middle, and Viktor the right.

"Point me." he whispered, holding his wand flat in his hand after reaching another intersection. It spun left and he took that path, always keeping his hand on the wall.

Then, before he could do anything, he was suspended in midair by a large, grey skinned creature holding a club.

It was a troll.

Flashing back to his first year, Harry let out a wandless stinger that caused the troll the drop him and used his wand to let out a gout of fire that burnt it. The troll let out an angry bellow and he ducked under its legs, dashing away.

He continued on his way, taking a right, another right, and a middle fork. He was now in front of a golden cloud, but there was no other way because the hedges had already closed around him. He took a deep breath and walked in, only to be levitated upside down.

"Finite Incantatem." he tried, relieved when he dropped to the ground.

He turned a corner and saw a dementor coming toward him, its breath rattling.

"Expecto Patronum!" he cast, his panther coming out and pouncing on the dementor.

It stumbled, and Harry realized that dementors couldn't stumble. It was a boggart, and he easily dispatched it.

He took some more turns, and then he ran into one of Hagrid's Blast Ended Skrewts. He had been looking over their weaknesses since he knew Hagrid was raising them for the tournament and he used a levitation spell to levitate it and then sliced its soft underbelly.

Then, he ran off, taking two middle forks and a sharp left.

Every so often he hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made him feel sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as he strode down a long, straight path, he saw movement once again, and his beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which he had only seen in picture form, in his Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Harry as he approached. He raised his wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me. "

"Riddles, right?" he asked.

"You're a sharp one." she grinned, flashing sharp teeth. "I will give you a number of riddles. Until I am satisfied, you answer. Answer on the first guess you continue. Answer wrong, you die."

Harry took a deep breath."Okay," he said. "Can I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

Harry thought a couple minutes before answering, "spider."

She grinned and started again.

This thing all things devours:

Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;

Gnaws iron, bites steel;

Grinds hard stones to meal;

Slays king, ruins town,

And beats high mountain down.

"Time." he answered confidently.

I have cities but no mountains,

Water but no fish,

Forests but no trees

What am I?

Harry thought, but he couldn't think. Finally, he answered, "A map?"

She smiled and let him pass. He grinned and walked on, using his wand to light the path. He turned a corner and saw the cup in front of him.

He had done it.

Grinning wider now he dashed to the cup and placed his hand on it, the familiar sensation of a portkey taking him back in front of the stands.

The moment he came in there was a loud cheer from the stands, the band playing at full strength. He could see Lyra screaming and cheering for him, while the others waved banners. Fred and George let out fireworks while Lee was bellowing that Harry had won.

They streamed down and Harry grinned as he shook hands with all of them and kissed Lyra very happily.

"Congrats." Cedric grinned as he shook Harry's hand."

"Thanks." Harry grinned.

Suddenly, Harry saw a yellow rat that he recognized as Peter Pettigrew at his feet. Before he could do anything he and Cedric were portkeyed away to locations unknown.

 _Shit._

The moment they landed Harry rolled up and pulled out his wand, whipping around the find Cedric. Peter Pettigrew had his wand to Cedric's throat, and a leery grin on his face.

"Kill the spare." a high, creepy, cold voice uttered from the pile of black cloth in the corner of the graveyard in which they were deposited.

"NO!" Harry bellowed, wand already flicking away and taking Cedric towards him, but it was too late.

The killing curse slammed Cedric straight in the back and he dropped down, a surprised expression embedded forevermore on his handsome face.

"No." Harry choked out, dropping to his knees and scrambling to Cedric's body.

With a wicked grin Pettigrew took his wand from him and tied him up before he could react, tying him to the headstone of a grave labelled TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. This was Voldemort's dad's grave.

 _Stupid stupid. You shouldn't have lost your wand and gone into shock like that_ he told himself.

Cedric's body was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground at Cedric's feet. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it.

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready. Master. "

"Now. . . " said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

Let it drown, Harry thought, please. . . let it drown. . . .

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master. "

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened - he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry couldn't stand to look. . . but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids. . . .

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy. . . forcibly taken. . . you will. . . resurrect your foe. "

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly. . . . Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened. . . .

Let it have drowned. Harry thought, let it have gone wrong. . .

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air. . . . It's gone wrong, he thought. . . it's drowned . . . please. . . please let it be dead. . . .

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry. . . and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils. . .

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

* * *

Harry did his best to clear his mind, and he blanked out the world around him. Taking deep breaths he rearranged his thoughts and prepared for battle. This wasn't an easy duel anymore, it was a fight for his life.

When he came to and started analyzing his surroundings, he immediately noticed that Lucius Malfoy, Hyperion Greengrass, and Arabella Zabini weren't there, to which he sighed in relief. At least they hadn't betrayed him.

He found Voldemort facing him, a horrible grin on his new snakelike face.

"Duel with me Harry Potter." he hissed, using magic to untie Harry and toss him his wand. "We will see who comes out on top without your mother protecting you."

Harry dropped down, picking up his wand and facing Voldemort.

This was it. This was the moment he had trained for. He had to win.

 _Lyra._

Her name floated across his head for a second and he took a deep breath. For Lyra.

"Bow Harry Potter." Voldemort hissed.

Harry sneered at him but bowed, his wandless shields at the ready. They had been the first thing he had perfected for wandless magic.

Predictably, Voldemort sent off a Crucio which Harry dodged. Harry sent his own volley of spells back, not holding back and using many many dark curses.

Voldemort smirked at that. "The boy-who-lived, using dark curses?"

Harry sneered and they started duelling again, the ground getting hotter and hotter underneath their feet. The landscape was riddled with metal spikes and ashes of fiery snakes that they had conjured.

Harry spun around with the entrail-expelling hex on his lips when Nagini, Voldemort's snake, struck from behind and tripped Harry up. Voldemort took advantage and before Harry knew what was happening he was under the Cruciatus Curse.

The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. . . . White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life -

It ended and he was vaguely aware of the Death Eaters laughing at him, their voices low and jeering. As he tried to get up he hissed in pain, but stood and gripped his wand shakily.

He summoned the Demon's First and knocked Voldemort head over toe, catching him off guard.

"Accio Peter Pettigrew!" he yelled, running towards Voldemort, his wand already waving as the Triwizard Cup flew towards him with Cedric's body.

This was his chance. The moment Voldemort hit him with the Cruciatus they collided, and the familiar sensation of a portkey took him up up up…

He was screaming. There was a deathly silence around him, and the atmosphere was different. He got up, panting from the exertion and his left arm tingling uselessly from landing on it.

 _Sirius._

He stunned Pettigrew before the rat could move and let off a wave of spells at Voldemort, his determination renewed by the sight of Lyra's petrified face in the crowd.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed, his anger knowing no bounds.

Harry dodged and used a nonverbal spell to send a spike into Voldemort's leg, causing him to hiss with pain. Voldemort sliced Harry's arm, causing Harry to yell in agony, but Harry persevered and continued to press in on Voldemort, conjuring snakes of fire and dragons of earth to attack him.

Voldemort, on the defensive, glared at him and apparated away, leaving Harry on the ground groaning in pain. His entire body ached from the Cruciatus Curse, and his arm was still bleeding steadily.

"Harry?" Lyra's voice came in. Why were their black spots above his eyes? "HARRY!" she shrieked.

Harry succumbed to the blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

Harry groaned, black spots floating above his eyes as he sat up blearily.

"Harry?" a male voice asked from above him, familiar but unfamiliar to his still-waking-up ears.

"Whazzcallit?" he muttered groggily, groping around for his glasses.

He found them and jammed them onto his face, the hospital wing coming into view. The male voice turned out the be Sirius, who was wearing dark navy robes, his hair combed and grey eyes tired.

Harry stared for a moment before sighing. "The hell did I miss, because I am decently sure that you are a fugitive still."

Sirius grinned. "It's been a week Harry. Pettigrew was captured and put on trial, so he is now in Azkaban and I am now a free man."

Harry stared for a moment as he registered the information, then grinned broadly and laughed out loud. Sirius and he hugged, though his bones creaked painfully at the sudden movement.

"You're going to need some more rest time according to Poppy, but you should be ready for the Final Feast in two days." Sirius told him happily. "I've been cleaning out my old home, Grimmauld Place, for us to live in."

"Live in?" Harry asked, still confused.

Sirius gave a giddy laugh, his grey eyes shining as he gave Harry the good news. "Since I'm technically your legal guardian, we talked to the Weasley's and they submitted memories of saving your from the Dursley's, when you had bars on your window. The Malfoys also submitted memories, and you're in my custody now!"

Harry let out another giddy chuckle, so happy was he with the good news.

He took a deep breath and leaned back against the pillows, continuing to talk with Sirius about the daily events. Apparently Voldemort's return had been proclaimed throughout the daily prophet, and articles were coming in day and night about recent deaths.

The Auror forces had been working in tandem with the Hit Wizards and were dispatched all over Great Britain, waiting for the smallest signal of an attack.

As they continued talking the hospital door opened, and Harry's face was suddenly filled with blonde hair, and his nose with the familiar scent of lemons.

Lyra.

She was laughing and sobbing at the same time and Harry realized it's the first time he's ever heard her cry.

"You idiot!" she shriek-sobbed as she pulled away and smacked his chest. "Never do that again!"

Harry grinned and pulled her down for a very happy kiss that had Draco groaning behind them and Sirius laughing gleefully.

Luna smiled serenely when they broke apart and looked at him, her gaze suddenly serious and belying the crown of flowers in her hair. "The time has come Harry, for you to rise."

Harry nodded, taking her word seriously. He would have to be a leader.

"Is she a seer?" Sirius asked, analyzing her.

"Yes." Draco replied. "Welcome back Cousin Sirius."

"Just Sirius." he replied cheerfully. "I'm a free man now, and very very happy."

"Why can't I move my arm?" Harry asked as he tried to lift his left arm.

Sirius suddenly looked somber. "Voldemort did a number on your Harry, even though you also did a number on him. That arm will likely be out of use for a month or so, still healing for cutting curses, four different fractures, and exposed Cruciatus concentration."

"Shouldn't my entire body be healing?" Harry asked.

Sirius shook his head negative. "Your magic expended itself healing you after the duel, and to make sure that it only had one part to heal it pushed all the Cruciatus damage to your arm."

Harry scowled, but allowed himself to lie back down.

"What about the tournament?" he asked.

"1000 galleons are in your vault." Luna replied.

"I want to see the Diggory's." he said firmly.

"Harry they don't blame you…" Draco said worriedly.

"They deserve the gold, not me." he replied. "It's my fault Cedric died anyway."

"No it's not." Sirius replied firmly. "Harry, you're not to blame. Pettigrew and Voldemort are."

* * *

"Mr Potter?" Mrs. Diggory entered the hospital wing with her husband, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Hello ma'am." Harry replied, gesturing to the chairs next to him. "Please sit down."

They sat, stiffly. Before she could say more Carly Diggory burst into sobs, and Amos comforted her.

"I'm sorry." Harry said, feeling as though sorry was not nearly enough. "It's my fault Cedric's dead. If he hadn't been congratulating me at the time he wouldn't have been taken to the graveyard and he wouldn't be dead."

"It's not your fault." she wiped her tears on her pale yellow scarf, putting her hands in the lap of her brown skirt.

"Did he say anything?" Amos asked gruffly.

Harry shook his head mutely, looking down as he thought of the expression of surprise on Cedric's face. "I know this can do nothing, but I would like to give you my Triwizard money."

Amos shook his head, but Harry pushed it to them anyway. "I don't need it." he said firmly.

"Was Cedric a friend?" Mrs. Diggory asked softly.

"Yes." he replied honestly. "We played quidditch a lot, and he was one of the only people to believe me when I said I didn't put my name in the goblet."

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, but I refuse the money. Thank you, for helping brighten my son's life."

With that she left, leaving Harry even more broken than before.

* * *

Harry looked around the hall, sitting at a table with House Hedwig and the rest of the champions. There were black drapes around the hall, for Cedric's death.

They ate in relative silence, most people in mourning for Cedric. Even the most dieheart blood purists gave a respectful silence because of his fairness and his refusal to bias against others due to blood status or house.

The real Moody sat at the table now, next to Tonks whose hair was her natural black that fell to her waist, her eyes grey. Finally, the feast was over, and Dumbledore got up.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year. "

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory. "

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "Cedric Diggory. "

Harry caught a glimpse of Cho Chang through the crowd. There were tears pouring silently down her face. He looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house," Dumbledore continued. "He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about. "

Harry raised his head and stared at Dumbledore. He wouldn't dare.

"Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort. "

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence. They knew he was back, but announcing it just made it worse.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - they do not think you are old enough. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory. "

Harry's blood boiled as he watched Dumbledore turn what was supposed to be Cedric's eulogy into a war-recruiting effort.

Before he knew what he was doing he stood up. "No headmaster." he said calmly, his voice masking a seething rage. "What is an insult to his memory is trying to turn his eulogy into a war effort. Cedric was more than just some victim. He was a Hufflepuff. He was my friend. He was a quidditch player."

Cho Chang stood up, tears streaming down her face. "He was my fiancee." she whispered.

"He was the best seeker Hufflepuff has ever had." Susan stated quietly.

One by one, many people got up to honor Cedric, even Viktor and Fleur.

"He was a good person." Viktor said softly.

"He would 'ave made a good champion." Fleur said.

"To Cedric Diggory." Harry said after everyone was done, holding up his wand.

"To Cedric Diggory." they all echoed, the tips of their wands lit up in recognition.

Dumbledore flashed Harry a look Harry recognized very well. Anger. Dumbledore was angry for interrupting his hard work.

He glared back, holding himself to his full height.

* * *

Harry looked around Grimmauld place, at its gothic structure, painting-lined halls, and cool black furniture.

"I like your house." he said finally.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "I hate it. Too many bad memories."

They trekked to the kitchen, ready for a snack before they went and cleaned Harry's bedroom for him to stay in.

"What have you been doing, apart from cleaning?" Harry asked.

"Writing an old friend of mine, Moony. Also called Remus Lupin." Sirius shrugged. "We were really close in school, and I figured we could strike up again."

Harry recognized the flash of longing in Sirius' eyes and grinned slightly. Maybe more than friendship. Definitely more than friendship.

"Has he responded?" Harry asked. "He was my DADA teacher in third year, and I'm decently sure he was a werewolf."

Sirius shook his head negative, taking a sip of firewhisky as he sat on the stool. "Maybe he's out of reach or something."

They continued talking idly, and when they left the hall, Harry accidentally bumped into a portrait. It's curtains flew open, revealing an old woman who might have once been regal. She had grey hair in a bun, a pearl necklace, a black dress, and the grey eyes that made her a Black.

"FILTH!" she screeched, her eyes flying open and spittle soaring from her thin lips. "DEFILING THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS-"

"SHUT UP!" Sirius roared, wrenching the curtains around her close.

He let out a rueful grin. "That's my crazy mum, Walburga. "'Fraid I couldn't get her off the wall."

"I can use magic in here, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, the manor has wards from days of olde."

He grinned. "Fiendfyre!" he commanded, a snake of fire emerging from the end of his wand and curling around the wall. He guided it to the portrait, burning it off of the wall.

"Damn." Sirius whispered, watching as his mother's hated portrait burned to ashes. "You know that's technically dark magic."

"Gonna tattle?" Harry challenged, grinning at his godfather's bark of laughter.

A house elf then popped in, old and weary looking with numerous tufts of white hair emerging from its ears. It let out a shriek at the pile of ashes and hissed in anger at both of them.

"My mistress!" it croaked. "Destroyed by the blood traitor Black! Oh, what she would say, her house brought to ruins."

"Shut up." Harry snapped.

"Kreacher does not have to obey Potter, no, son of a filthy Mudblood in my mother's home." he hissed.

"Obey Harry's commands." Sirius snapped.

Kreacher glared balefully at both of them and popped away.

Sirius groaned and ran a hand down his face. "Dumb houself. It hated me even as a kid."

"Why not just sell him?" Harry asked.

"He knows too many Black Family secrets." Sirius shook his head. "Impossible."

Just then, Lyra's runespoor patronus floated in. "Harry, we need to meet, it's urgent."

Harry spun around to look at Sirius and he nodded. Harry grabbed the floo powder and flashed away in green flames, to Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Remus Lupin ran through the thick green foliage, his long legs carrying him away.

It wouldn't be enough, and he knew it. Already he could feel his pursuers gaining, spells zinging from their wands and hitting the trees around him.

A Cruciatus hit him and he fell to the ground, yelling in pain.

"Remus Lupin." Voldemort hissed, a grotesque grin across his white face. "Yes, you will do nicely. Soon the whole world will know that Lord Voldemort has returned!"

Remus glared up at him and spit in his face. Then the pain resumed, blinding white and red, like knives dancing across his already scarred skin.

There was a flash of green, and he knew no more.


	18. Delores Umbridge

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.

 **Hey guys! Terribly sorry this update took so long - I was in India for vacation the entire month. Hope you enjoy though! There's not much of the story left, maybe 10 more chapters.**

* * *

"He solved it." was the first thing Lyra told him when he flooed in. "That diary you gave him, in second year, my dad and mum finally cracked it. They're examining its inner workings right now."

Harry's heart soared. "They solved it?"

She grinned. "They're in the library with Draco. Apparently it's a really dark piece of magic."

"Can I get Sirius?" he asked.

She nodded. Ten minutes later they were gathered in the library, looking over a baffling array of Ancient Runes and numbers hovering above the diary.

"I can't read it." he shook his head. "The runes I can tell: dark magic, soul magic, resurrection magic, memories, and more dark magic, but I can't read the numbers very well."

"Horcruxes." Lucius stated grimly, swiping through the numbers to reveal a simple black string of runes and letters at the midst of it all.

Sirius hissed, and Narcissa stayed blank at the very word.

"Haven't heard of them." he shook his head.

Draco walked from the stalks of books, holding a huge black book titled MAGICS MOST OBSCURE. It was by Salazar Slytherin.

"Found it father." he said, putting the book on the table. "With detailed descriptions on horcruxes."

 _Horcruxes are the darkest soul magic alive. To make a horcrux, a life must be taken. From this murder the soul splits, fractured by the cold-blooded act that is killing. It must be done using the killing the curse. Once done, the broken part of the soul can be pulled out of the body and put into another object using a dark ritual, detailed on page 45. But be warned, the soul cannot be split many times, because with each peace of the soul breaks away a dash of sanity._

"The diary is a horcrux." Sirius commented grimly.

"There's also a spell that can find horcruxes in your radius, but it's really powerful magic and apparently you can't be light or dark attuned, only grey." Draco offered.

"I can try it." Harry said. "My magical inclinations are pretty grey."

"We'll get that later." Lyra waved her hand. "But the diary, it's a horcrux of Lord Voldemort?"

Narcissa nodded. "And from what we can tell, the fracture of the soul is so small that he could not have made just one. He has to have made at least six!"

"Seven seems reasonable." Sirius said. "It is the most magical number."

"And old Voldishorts is obsessed with magic." Harry grinned.

"This is a dark piece of magic though." Lucius stated, sobering the atmosphere. "We can only guess what the horcruxes are."

"I could talk to Dumbledore." Sirius offered.

"No." Harry shook his head. "For all his accomplishments, I trust the old man as far as I can throw him, just because he is always playing political games with us. He acts like a good old man but he knowingly left me in an abusive household and tried to separate me from my friends because they were Slytherins."

"But we know nothing about Voldemort." Lyra sighed.

"We might." Draco piped up. "Wasn't Grandpa Abraxas good friends with Tom Riddle? I know that he kept a journal, and his pensive might have some things we could use."

"What about McGonagall?" Sirius asked.

"Devoted to Dumbledore." Lyra shook her head. "But Snape might know some things."

Sirius made a rude face at Snape's mention and Harry sighed. "No matter his failings, he has been an ally to me Sirius. Please can you try to make amends and at least be civil?"

Sirius let out a huff of acceptance and blew a strand of his raven hair out of his face. "Fine." he grumbled.

"Anyone else we know?" Draco asked.

"Slughorn." Narcissa smiled. "The old man taught Tom Riddle, and will know a lot."

"He's also tight-lipped with his secrets." Lucius pointed out.

"I can get him to talk." she smirked. "I have the Black book of Blackmail."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

The matching smirks around the room honestly scared him.

"It is a book of blackmail that the family has been comprising on those around them since the time of Merlin. I know things about your ancestors that would make your toes curl." Narcissa smirked.

Harry let out a slight shudder. "Remind me never to anger a Black."

"Would there be anything on Tom Riddle?" Lyra asked.

Sirius shook his head negative. "No, the book only keeps track of the major power players. We might have a few notes on him, since Arcturus Black was in the same year as Tom Riddle. Arcturus was a Ravenclaw though, so no guarantees."

"You want to go do the spell while I look through the book with my cousin?" Narcissa asked. "Only those of Black Blood can open it, so I'm afraid that Lyra, Draco, Lucius, and you wouldn't be able to."

They flooed to the manor, Harry looking through the book before channeling his magic into his wand and casting the spell.

"Spiritus Tenebrosus revelare!" he cast, and immediately an object in the corner of the drawing room started growing with unearthly black magic.

They walked to it, Harry letting the spell down, only to have Kreacher pop in front of them, his eyes angry and long hooked nose quivering as he yelled, "Not Master Regulus' locket! Kreacher will protect it!"

"Regulus Black?" Harry asked, having taken Regulus' room upon moving the Grimmauld. "Kreacher, tell me everything."

And so the houself spilled the entire story, a sad tale about a Slytherin pushed into a world of darkness by his family, and killed in escape. By the end of it tears were freely flowing down Lyra's cheeks, and even Draco and Harry looked troubled.

"We need to get the others." Draco said finally. "We need to get to that cavern, get the fake locket, destroy this horcrux, and figure out what the bloody hell Riddle might have made his other horcruxes."

"Looks like we have a full summer ahead of us." Lyra smiled, and the three of them laughed.

They flood back to the Manor to meet the adults, who were still reading through the Black Book while Narcissa talked to Slughorn about a meeting, and told them the entire sordid tale. Sirius was freely crying by the end of it, at the idea of his little brother's sacrifice.

"Don't touch the horcrux though." Harry cautioned, levitating the locket a little higher. "When I did it tried to possess me."

It was horrible, it's voice hissing darkness in his ears.

They ended up storing the locket in a Malfoy vault and retiring for the day, ready to face the cavern tomorrow with Kreacher's help. After letting his story out the house elf had become surprisingly friendly and docile to them, cleaning with vigor and making the house a much nicer place to be.

The next day they woke up, ready to face the maze. Harry had put on his duelling robes for protection, and all of them wore fire-protection cloaks since they plan was the burn the inferi Kreacher told them about with fire.

At exactly half past ten Kreacher took them to the cavern in the ocean. Despite being a place of dark magic, it was beautiful, with colorful rocks constantly being hit by rough ocean waves.

"It's beautiful." Lyra whispered.

"What's the building over there?" Draco asked, pointing to a small white building in the distance, overlooking the area at which they were.

"I believe," Narcissa said slowly, "that we must come back to explore that building. It may have significance to the Dark Lord."

"There is a lot of magic coming from the wall." Harry said softly, walking towards the huge, coal-black cliff wall in front of him. "Runes everywhere too, though hidden."

"Revelio!" he encanted, and runes lit up along the wall in dozens.

"Blood enchantments, containment, weakening, magic dampeners, sensory spells, magic leechers, inferi, potions." Narcissa muttered as she walked along the wall, eying the runes.

"This isn't just a safehouse, it's a trap for those who enter." Sirius said softly.

"Children go home." Lucius instructed, paler than usual and fingering his wand.

They immediately protested.

"Father you can't!" Lyra protested.

"No." Draco just shook his head.

Harry stated, "We've come this far, we're not turning back."

"But you could die." Sirius whispered, looking at Harry with worry.

"Like I nearly died this summer?" he countered. "We've been training for this since second year, and we're part of the plan. We came in our duelling robes, we have fire spells prepared…"

"They must come Lucius." Narcissa interrupted. "I do not believe they will allow otherwise."

"We have to break the runic enchantments." Lyra stated, looking at the glowing runes.

"That will take a ritual at the least." Draco countered, looking up.

"But a quick one." she replied. "All we need to do is leach the magic out of the runes so that they are drawings."

"But who to put the magic in?" Sirius asked.

"All of us." Harry stated. "All of us should receive the magic."

They nodded and prepared. They etched a hexagon into the ground, and placed a bowl with all the magical elements at each corner. Fire, Air, Water, Earth, Dark, and Light. Then a magic siphoning rune was drawn in the middle, with connections to each of the corners.

They stood at the edges, alternating adult child. It was Harry, Narcissa, Draco, Sirius, Lyra, Lucius.

Then the real magic started.

 _Rogamus deos et astra de caelo_

 _Auferte ab anathemate eosdem amet_

 _Grex dispersus Israel, impuris,_

 _Redige est sordidum, senex figere_

Narcissa chanted.

"Libenter accipiunt magicis meis tamquam vas" Harry stated, the magic flowing from the runes into him.

He let out a shocked gasp at the inflow of magic, _feeling_ the power in his veins. He barely noticed the others doing the same, taking an influx of magic into their bodies, until the runes on the wall stopped glowing.

"Wow." Draco whispered, looking over his hands like they were brand new.

The wall to the cave now had a door in it, and they all walked through, wands at the ready. An eerie sight met their eyes: they were standing on the edge of a great black lake, so vast that Harry could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high that the ceiling too was out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below. The greenish glow and the light from the two wands were the only things that broke the otherwise velvety blackness, though their rays did not penetrate as far as Harry would have expected. The darkness was somehow denser than normal darkness.

"Don't go in the lake." Lyra whispered, echoing Kreacher's words. "Inferi."

Harry swallowed down bile as he eyed the water, hundreds of bloated bodies floating in it.

"Try to summon the horcrux Harry." Sirius whispered.

"Me? Oh. . . okay. . . " Harry had not expected this, but cleared his throat and said loudly, wand aloft, "Accio Horcrux!"

With a noise like an explosion, something very large and pale erupted out of the dark water some twenty feet away; before Harry could see what it was, it had vanished again with a crashing splash that made great, deep ripples on the mirrored surface. Harry leapt backward in shock and hit the wall.

"Plan B." Lucius stated unnecessarily, eying the boat that floated ominously in the green water.

"Won't let us go through together." Sirius said, his wand waving over the boat in intricate patterns. "It'll take one trip there and back, with one adult wizard only."

"Would one kid and one adult be able to go?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but the boat will take only two that way."

"We can't levitate ourselves over?"

"Don't wanna risk it. The inferi could leap at us."

"I should go." Narcissa immediately said. "Harry has to go over."

"NO way." Sirius protested. "He's my godson, and my responsibility."

"He has a point Cissa." Lucius told her.

"I should go." Lyra offered. "This way Harry can protect us from the side."

Harry shook his head. "The Inferi will swarm the island if anything. Sirius and I should go."

Draco shook his head, glaring at the island. "What if we can't help?"

"Then you can't help." Harry said amiably. "We have the horcrux, but we need that locket to see if Regulus had any leeway with the finding."

"Don't die." Lyra muttered, kissing him sweetly.

With that, he boarded the boat and reached the island, Sirius next to him. The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin rather like the Pensieve, which was set on top of a pedestal.

The basin held a fluorescent emerald green liquid that gave Harry the chills. He could see the golden locket glimmering at the bottom, but when he tentatively extended this arm to grab it, his arm hit an invisible barrier.

"Do we have to drink it?" Sirius asked.

Harry shrugged and conjured a goblet which he dipped into the basin, but when he tried to pour it onto the rocks it shimmered midair and reappeared in the basin. Sirius tried vanishing it, to no effect. They tried siphoning it into cups, but the water disappeared from the cups.

"It has to be drunk." Harry concluded, reaching down for a cupful with his goblet.

"No way." Sirius stopped him. "I'm your guardian Harry, I should drink it."

"Who knows how it'll affect you?" he argued.

"All the more reason for me to drink it. You're the defense."

Harry bit his lip before sighing and consenting, handing Sirius the goblet with the liquid. Sirius have him a small grin and downed the goblet. His eyes closed as he hissed in pain, blindly reaching for another goblet. He drank that one, and another and another, until on the fifth he gave a small scream of pain and staggered forward.

His face was slack now, and Harry handed Sirius another goblet to drink, hating himself for the way his hands shook and the way Sirius blindly downed the goblet, letting out a bigger yell of agony and collapsing to the ground, his entire body shuddering as he seemed to fold in on itself.

"All my fault, All my fault. I didn't do it!" he moaned, his entire body shuddering.

Harry's heart dropped as he realized what was happening. Sirius was reliving his worst memory - the day his parents died, and he was sent to Azkaban.

"Come on Sirius." he muttered, tipping the goblet into the man's mouth as he let out another pain-filled moan, his babbling becoming more nonsensical.

"Last one Sirius." Harry muttered, scooping the dregs of the potion into the goblet and grabbing the locket, stuffing it into his robes.

Sirius let out a sob as he took the liquid down, before screaming in agony. "KILL ME!" he yelled.

"Water." Harry muttered, trying to conjure water. Every time he used the Aguamenti, however, the water fizzled out.

"Can't touch the water." he recalled Kreacher's words, looking at the cold green water lapping gently at the island.

Was Sirius' life worth it?

Yes.

He pulled out his wand, ready to cast the fiendfyre curse, and levitating the goblet, scooped a cup of fresh, freezing water out of he lake, giving it to Sirius.

The effect was instantaneous. White, soggy, waterlogged human bodies erupted out of the water on all sides and went straight for the island. He immediately made a circle of fiendfyre surround the island, but no matter how many inferi burnt themselves to a crisp more came. He could see the Malfoys shooting fire at the inferi, but at such a long range it did very little.

He carved a path to the boat with the fire and turned around to see Sirius standing up, frail looking, but a determined look in his slate eyes. He says nothing, just walks to the boat and sits down next to Harry as the boat sets off, a circle of fire around them. Harry can see bodies trying to get in, and then he feels a shaking on the boat and Sirius is staring, petrified, at one of the inferi.

It had long dark hair and a sharp jawline exactly like Sirius', and then they are on the other side and running out and apparating away but Sirius _still doesn't move._

He didn't make a single noise, say anything, _do anything_ , until they get back to Grimmauld Place. Harry has left the locket in a safe place, ready to be examined the next day, and when he gets back he sees Sirius staring into the fire, nursing a tumbler of firewhisky.

He makes no inclination that he knows Harry is there, even when he sat down next to his godfather. Finally, after ten long minutes, Sirius talked , his voice hoarse and his tumbler nearly drained.

"That's my brother. My brother, the one who I hated and jinxed in the hallways. The one who turned out to be the most selfless of them all and I never got to FUCKING THANK HIM!" he threw the tumbler into the fireplace.

Harry stayed quiet, knowing that Sirius needed to get it all out.

"It's my fault you know." he mumbled. "If I'd been a better brother he might not have died. I could have saved him, brought him to Potter Manor with me. James and Lily might not have died, Peter-"

Harry looked around at his godfather to see him letting out muted sobs, his long hair covering his face. He inched over and rubbed his godfather's back, rather unsure as to what to do in the situation.

At least he wasn't the only broken person in the world, Harry thought, thinking of sleepless nights punctuated by Cedric's wide eyes and flashes of green.

* * *

There was no hint on the other horcruxes in the note Regulus left, so they had thrown the note away and given the locket to Kreacher, who was now the most devoted house elf in the world. Grimmauld Place had never been cleaner, but Harry was miserable because _fucking politics._

He groaned when Tonks finally flooed in, his escort for the meeting with Minister Fudge about stopping Voldemort.

"Ready Harry?" she asks, perky as ever with bubblegum pink hair and the traditional grey eyes of a Black.

"I hate politics." he scoffed instead, and she laughed.

"Doesn't everyone?" she replied with a grin. "So, I'm pretty sure you never got a schedule. You meet Fudge, then Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE, then Saul Croaker, head of the Department of Mysteries."

Harry just mumbled death threats incoherently at the entire ministry as they flooed in, then stopped talking and walked with Tonks courteously to the Minister's office, where Bones and Croaker were waiting too.

Amelia Bones was a tall, heavy set woman with a long scar tracing down the left side of her face, narrowly missing her eye. The sharp look in her brown eyes showed that she was not to be troubled with, and Harry could easily see her resemblance to Susan in the red hair they shared.

Saul Croaker was the opposite, thin and tall with long fingers that constantly fidgeted and undisguised curiosity in his eyes. He looked unassuming, in plain black robes and a tattoo on the side of his neck marking him as one of the Unspeakables, but his hair, eyebrows, and eyes were all pure white. Croaker could see though, but they were all pure white.

"Minister." he greeted respectfully. "Madame Bones, Unspeakable Croaker."

"I need you to tell me about Voldemort's fighting techniques." Bones immediately said.

Harry's lips quirked up in a grin. "I can see the resemblance - Susan isn't one for tarrying around."

"Now now, let's not go there just yet!" Fudge butt in. "Harry, we need to talk about Hogwarts, honestly."

"What do you need?" Harry asked, preparing himself.

"Do you plan to return to your house, Gryffindor?" Fudge asked.

"No. They kicked me out, and I want nothing to do with them. I am quite happy where I am."

Fudge looked like he wanted to protest, but sighed and held his tongue. "Very well. I would also like to tell you that you will be awarded the Order of Merlin, first class, for your actions in fighting the Dark Lord."

"I don't want it." he replied, amused at his gaping expression. "Until Voldemort," Fudge shuddered, "is gone for good, my job isn't done. Maybe after he's dead I'd accept it, but I haven't done anything right now."

"You're very modest." Amelia Bones smirked, before getting to the point. "Voldemort's fighting techniques."

Harry thought back to his fight against him.

"He favors uses of the Unforgivables, especially the Cruciatus." he stated thoughtfully. "He's also a bit of an egotist; he bragged a lot to me during the duel, giving me a little time to recover." Bones was taking notes of all he said. "He has a short temper too: he lost it when I didn't fall easily during the duel, and he let me take advantage of the distraction to bring him to Hogwarts. He thinks very little of his death eaters - as hostages, they have very little use unless they are part of his inner circle."

"My turn." Croaker clapped his hands in glee. "Harry Potter, in the hall of prophecies there is a prophecy concerning you and the Dark Lord. I would like to take you to go see it, so we may know its contents. None but you or the Dark Lord may touch it."

"A prophecy." Harry muttered as they took the elevator down to the DoM.

They finally reach the Department. They were standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handleless black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue; their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor made it look as though there was dark water underfoot.

Croaker immediately went forward and opened a door, leading them into a room high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold.

He motioned for them to follow him into the stacks, into a row, and through the towering shelves until they stopped, and Croaker motioned towards one of the dusty orbs. Harry noticed that written on the shelf below it was:

S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.

Dark Lord

and (?)Harry Potter

"Professor Trelawney gave the prophecy to Dumbledore." Harry breathed, picking up the orb. It was surprisingly cool on his skin.

"Drop it." Croaker instructed. "The prophecy will come out, and no-one else will know what it says."

 _'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . . the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies . . . '_

"Bloody hell." Harry summed up all their feelings. "So I'm destined to kill the Dark Lord, and I'm the only one who can. Fan-fucking-tastic"

He turned around to calm himself, basking in the silence of the Department, before turning around. "Apologies, finding out that the Wizarding World's fate rests on my shoulders is a little unsettling."

"Not just your shoulders." Bones tells him, surprisingly gentle. "The Ministry will stand by you, as will your friends. You may head the army, but the our fate lies within our own arms."

"Thank you." he said quietly, looking up at them all. "May we go back up? I would like to share this information with my allies so we may plan around it."

* * *

They took the news pretty well. Lyra shut herself off, and they had a furious snogging session later where she told him that he wasn't allowed to die. Draco just said that Voldemort would have to get to him first, and the others all voiced the same thing. Sirius just sighed and ran a hand through his hair, stating that he would support Harry.

A few weeks later Sirius came up to him with a letter in his hand. "Dumbledore has called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix."

"The what?"

"A group of individuals Dumbledore assembled during the war to fight Voldemort. Your parents were part of it, I was part of it." Sirius replied, handing him a picture of the first order. "I've been invited, but you can come too if you want. It'll be at the Weasley Household."

The next day they made their way to the Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry greeted Mrs Weasley and gave her a hug like always, ignoring Ron and going to hang out with Ginny, Fred, and George. They already knew all the news, and were researching horcruxes.

The meeting started, and Harry went down to the kitchen, slipping in before they could ward it and taking a seat next to Sirius.

"Harry, you can go. This is a meeting for members of the Order." Dumbledore told him gently.

"No." he replied firmly, tilting his chin up. "I've fought Voldemort, and I want to know what's going to happen. Whether you like it or not, you can't keep me in the dark anymore about your war actions. I'm just as much of a part of it as you are. I don't want three sides in this war Dumbledore."

"I don't approve of your use of dark magic, or your strategies." Dumbledore replied, his baby blue eyes flat and hard, and the wrinkles on his face more pronounced than ever.

"Too bad." Harry replied. "I don't like you either, but we can end Voldemort together. I'm not light, I'm grey. And the magic is not dark, the way it is wielded is dark."

"You're just a boy!" Mrs Weasley fretted.

"Not anymore." Harry shook his head. "I've seen too much."

"Fine." Dumbledore told him. "But you keep the information a secret."

Harry shook his head negative again. "I share with all my allies."

"Who are they?" Hestia Jones, a brown haired, slim Unspeakable asks.

"Sirius," he starts, "Tonks, Flitwick, Snape, The Malfoys, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Colin and Denis Creevey, the Greengrass Sisters, Blaise Zabini, Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan."

"You're trusting Slytherins?!" a man scoffs from down the table.

"House has nothing to do with this." Harry replied. "They're my allies, and they need to know what's happening in the war."

"Has there been any word from Remus?" Sirius asks Dumbledore.

The old man shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid he was found dead this morning in the forests of Kathmandu. Killed by Voldemort."

Sirius stiffened and Harry let out a sigh as Sirius lost his last remaining contact to his past. He was the last Marauder now. The meeting went on, mostly talking about Voldemort's strategies in the past war and how they needed to protect something. The only thing that peaked his interest was when the mentioned the Department of Mysteries.

"What about the Department of Mysteries?" Harry demanded.

"It's nothing you need to know." Dumbledore placated him.

Harry scoffed, and Dumbledore sighed before relenting. "Something needs to be hidden from Voldemort."

The prophecy. Harry let it go, though he was grinning internally. Now that he knew this, he might be able to set a trap in the Department of Mysteries. He zones out for the rest of the meeting, cataloguing the information and thinking of how they could set up the trap. Maybe put a fake prophecy in place? Linked to a magic suppressing jail cell?

The meeting ended and they went back home, before Sirius struck up conversation.

"They want to move in." he said, distracting Harry for his brainstorm.

"What?"

"The Order. They were hoping to use Grimmauld Place for meetings. They'd be around a lot, the Weasley's might even move in permanently."

"No." Harry shook his head. "They can do meetings, but I don't get along with Ron or Hermione or Dumbledore and I couldn't manage them living here."

"It's alright." Sirius grinned. "I'll tell them it's for meetings only."

"I'm gonna tell the others about the meeting." Harry said, heading upstairs to pen some letters.

* * *

The order met. They planned and planned but really didn't take action. Harry met up with Amelia Bones again to discuss plans for a trap, and he hung out with Susan and Hannah after. They had a mini pool party in Susan's yard, which was great fun.

He invited Luna over once, to hang out. She pointed out shapes in the clouds and innocently brought up spell books from the Black Library that would hold spells for him to use. He studied all of them. A lot of the stuff in there was really dark, but there were useful spells too, ones that Harry practiced in the duelling chamber.

He invited Lyra over a little later, and they mostly hung out in his room, practicing spells and kissing. They went down for a break before a practice duel when Harry realized that the Order was meeting today.

"I'll be fine." Lyra reassured him.

They walked down and entered the kitchen, where the Order was having lunch. The Weasleys and Hermione were there too, though many stiffened when Harry walked in with Lyra.

"A Malfoy?" Ron sneered. "She's going to take everything back to You-Know-Who!"

Lyra just glared at him coldly and drank her glass of water, smiling softly when Fred and George slipped one of their prank products into Ron's food.

"Duel?" Harry asked.

She flashed him a grin and nodded, both of them heading to the duelling chamber and putting on their robes. They noticed that Ron, Hermione, and some of the other Order members had followed them.

"Same rules as always?" Harry asked.

"Incapacitation or knocked out." Lyra nodded.

She immediately let off a number of spells, pushing Harry to the defensive as he shielded. One of the spells caught his robes but they deflected, and he took the momentary lull to launch his own spells, less numerous but more powerful.

She jumped to the side when his spike rocketed out of the ground next to her, and when he acciod her wand she just acciod it back and let of a cutting curse that caught him off guard and sliced his cheek. He grinned and absolutely covered her in spells, so many that she couldn't shield properly. While this was happening he disillusioned himself and snuck behind her, stunning her from behind and grinning.

"Damn." Fred grinned from the side. "You haven't duelled in a while. Lyra hasn't caught you like that in a one on one duel in a while."

Ron made a strangled noise from his throat. "You can do better?"

Harry shrugged, reviving Lyra and taking a sip of water. "I've beat Snape, Tonks, and Flitwick in a duel at the same time.

Tonks grinned. "He's been training since second year, so…"

"Not bad." Fred grinned. "Group fight? Lyra, George, and I on a team?"

Harry grinned, adjusting his glasses. "You're on."

* * *

The rest of summer passed that way, in a haze of training, order meetings, planning, and long, sleepless nights filled with words from Voldemort and the horrible, agonizing pain of the Cruciatus Curse. The nightmares finally started to peter away by the end of summer, but they still popped up occasionally.

Harry had fixed up Regulus' room, and it was now host to his belongings, though he repacked them when it was time to go to Hogwarts again.

"Right me pup, okay?" Sirius asked him, his eyes filled with concern.

"As much as I can." Harry promised hugging his godfather. "Thanks, Padfoot, for everything."

He got on the train, his trunk in his pocket, and entered the usual compartment. Blaise, Daphne, Dean, and Luna were already there. Dean was sketching like usual, and Harry caught sight of a pair of bright silver eyes before Dean yanked his view away with a grin.

"No looking." Dean shook his head. "I've been working on this project all of summer."

"So how was it?" Harry asked. "Summer?"

"Good." Susan smiled as she walked in.

The rest of the gang joined after a while in the expanded compartment, and they passed time playing chess, exploding snap, gobstones, eating, and reading. The ride was soon over and they got down, entering the hall together.

So to see that the arrangement of the Great Hall had changed was a huge surprise. It now had five tables, the fifth between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables. It had the distinctive flag of House Hedwig above it in purple and black, and Harry had to laugh delightedly.

Hogwarts now recognized them as a house, just like Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. He grinned and walked to the table with his friends, sitting down. Peeves, he realized, had a seat as their head of house, and the Moaning Myrtle was now there as a house ghost.

"We are definitely the weirdest house ever." Lyra grinned to him, and he had to laugh.

Many of the others were staring at them, but he didn't particularly care. The sorting started, but he was mostly interested to hear the phrasing for House Hedwig.

 _Or perhaps you are smart and loyal,_

 _Powerful and different and ready._

 _Then House Hedwig will welcome you in,_

 _And friends you will find aplenty._

They got two kids, a boy and a girl. The girl was named Carina Darling, and made quick friends with Astoria Greengrass and Luna Lovegood. The boy was named Michael Williams, and he found himself talking with Colin and Dennis about photography.

Dinner passed by, with Peeves giving them the news that it had taken him about ten minutes to choose Susan and Blaise as their prefects.

"Come on." Susan told the two young ones as they walked to the bathroom.

It was the same as last year, and Harry hissed the password they had set at the end of last year (Future)

"So, we'll be teaching you guys the phrases in Parseltongue so that you can get in by yourself, but if not Moaning Myrtle can usually help." Blaise told them.

"You're a Parseltongue!" Carina whispered in awe. "My mummy says that they are the most powerful of snake sorcerers."

Harry grinned. "Pureblood, correct? And Michael, muggleborn?"

They both nodded.

"Well just stick together and you'll be fine. Peeves said that you guys are sharing classes with the Hufflepuffs, since they have the smallest batch this year."

"What about the rest of us?" Astoria asked.

"Well, there's not that many of us per year, so we'll just have the same schedules as if we were in our old houses."

* * *

Harry sat inside the new defense room, wondering what the new teacher would be like. He knew that she was a ministry person, but he didn't know what her teaching method would be.

When she walked in, his first thought was _She's so pink._

"Hello class, my name is Professor Umbridge, an I am your defense against the dark arts teacher for this year. Now, the ministry has decided that with the upcoming threat of You-Know-Who, you must be prepared. Along with this class, a duelling club will be started up after school. Now turn to page 412 in your books and start working on the hexing chapter. I will be reviewing your performance in these hexes next class after you get time to practice them."

Harry sighed under his breath as he flipped idly through the pages. He already knew all of these hexes, and more. He'd have to talk to Umbridge about free study in this time or something, because with Voldemort back he couldn't waste his time on this.

Finally the class ended, and he stayed behind to talk to Umbridge.

"Professor?" he started. "I had some questions about the duelling club. Could you just tell me more about it?"

"Of course." she smiled a sickly sweet smile that rather scared him. "It will be held every alternate day starting next Monday. You will simply pair off and duel each other in a safe environment. Any reading up on spells and whatnot will be done in your free time."

"Ok, and also, I was wondering if I might be able to bring my own research books to class. I've already learned all the jinxes in the book, and if I may be frank, it is a waste of my time."

She narrowed her eyes, before looking up. "I would see that as acceptable, if you agree to become a main part of duelling lessons. I know that exhibitions would certainly help the students learn."

Harry had to suppress a smirk. This woman was obviously a Slytherin, but he was going to attend duelling club anyway.

"Deal."

* * *

Harry sat at the table with the rest of the group. Carina had turned out to be an absolute ace at Transfigurations, and was eagerly devouring the books. Michael ended up being one of those kids who was excellent at mathematics in muggle primary school, so he was learning about Arithmancy, even though he was only a first year.

He looked up to see Cho Chang get up from her table and walk over to them, sitting down in the sudden silence at the House Hedwig table.

"I'm tired." she started softly, brushing her sleek black hair out of her eyes. "I'm tired of crying and moping around now that Cedric's dead. He's dead and I loved him, and I want to fight. You're my best chance at that."

"You want to fight?" Lyra asked, her eyebrow raised.

"I'm a decent dueller. I'm just really bloody tired of doing nothing. He killed Cedric and I haven't done one fucking thing!"

"Welcome to House Hedwig." Harry grinned, shaking her hand and watching as the symbol on her robes changed into the purple and black background with the snowy owl sitting on a pile of books.

And so Cho Chang was part of House Hedwig. She was in the same year as Fred and George, and though they were never very close they hung out together.

That night was the first duelling club day, and Harry prepared for it. Though he knew that it wouldn't do much, he thought it would be good practice to duel lots of people at the same time, as he would in a battlefield.

"Welcome to the duelling club!" Umbridge announced from the stage in the great hall, her high voice pitched across the crowd of hundreds of teenagers.

They started off by getting into pairs and practicing some basic jinxes. Harry ignored it in favor of stretching, and then he started a small duel with Lyra. Both of them decided to use only transfigurations, and eventually she won out when he was unable to detransfigure her wolves in time.

Good as he may be at duelling, he sucks at transfiguration in a duel. It was something he would need to work on.

"Good." Umbridge exclaimed. "I would like to hold a mock duel now, between one of our Aurors and our very own Harry Potter."

Harry took the stage, looking over at Kingsley. He had never duelled the darker older man, though it was said that he was the best in the force after Moody.

The duel started, and Harry let off his barrage of spells, aiming them all at Kingsley's limbs. The Auror shielded and let off his own barrage, which Harry dodged and shielded. Knowing that he couldn't use dark magic, he ran towards Kingsley, his shield in front of him.

At the last moment he let down the shield and dodged Kingsley's spell, disillusioning himself and stunning Kingsley from the side.

There was silence in the room, before everyone started clapping wildly.

"Good job!" some Gryffindor yelled.

Harry smiled and bowed before walking off the stage.

* * *

He was improving. That much he knew. His group duels had changed - sometimes he would only be allowed to use transfiguration, other times he could not use a shield charm. One particularly memorable time he had to use only wandless magic, and he had vowed to better that branch of his magic.

He was getting better though. His magic was improving beyond leaps and bounds, and in Ancient Runes they had finally moved onto battle runes - how to use runes in the battlefield.


	19. Neville Longbottom

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey guys! Smaller chapter than usual, but lots of plot. This story doesn't have much left- fifth year has like two more chapters left, and the estimated length right now is 27 chapters.**

* * *

The year was moving. Harry was content, but still on edge in case of an attack. Every day the Daily Prophet came in with more news of attacks, and every death just made Harry train harder. He had started doing small lessons in hand to hand combat with Tonks because he wanted to be able to fight without his wand, even if he could summon it.

There was also much more work in elemental magic - Harry still wasn't at Dumbledore's level, where he could conjure snakes of fire that worked autonomously, but he was getting better. He was also going through an astonishing number of books - the Malfoy, Black, Zabini, Greengrass, and Bones libraries had some wonderful books and light and dark magic.

Sirius was also doing a lot of collaborative research with Narcissa, Lucius, and surprisingly Amelia Bones on horcruxes - they hadn't gotten very far, but they had determined that Harry had once been a horcrux, though that was gone after the dementors in third year.

They were all really thankful for that, especially Lyra. His animagus was also going well, though he wasn't making much progress since he was too busy on spellwork.

He spent Mondays and Wednesdays in duelling club, Tuesdays and Thursdays at Quidditch, Fridays on homework, Saturdays on spellwork, and Sundays on animagus. Quite frankly, it was a lot, but he wasn't doing too bad.

He knew nothing about Voldemort, however, or Tom Riddle at least, so he had been doing some of his own reading thanks to Luna's vague words on Riddle's history at Hogwarts.

From what he could tell, Riddle had been a model student - prefect but not head boy, and had won the award for special services to the school for stopping the basilisk, though that was false. Really, his Hogwarts letters didn't say much, other than that he collected a group of students around him who followed him loyally.

Honestly, if anyone would have important information it would be Dumbledore, but Harry didn't fully trust the man. He wasn't sure if he had a choice, honestly.

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _I've realized we're not going to get anywhere with the horcrux hunt at this rate. We need to collaborate with Dumbledore, even if we don't like him. We don't have to give a lot of information either, just enough to get the information we need on Riddle._

 _I want your, Lucius, and Narcissa's advice, and I'm talking to Lyra, Luna, Dean, and the others, but I think that this is our only option._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

Carina Darling and Michael Williams were not included in the meeting Harry held, since they were too young. Only the kids in Luna's year and above were actually allowed, but by the end of the meeting it was agreed that Harry could talk to Dumbledore as long as he kept his Occlumency up at all times, and took antidotes to Veritaserum, Amortentia, and all poisons before entering the room.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We've agreed that you should probably meet with Dumbledore. He was the only one we can think of who went to school with Dumbledore except for old Slughorn, but when we contacted him about Riddle he ran away, and we're still tracking him down._

 _Be Safe Harry._

 _Love,_

 _Padfoot_

 _Headmaster Dumbledore,_

 _I have some information on Voldemort that might be beneficial to you; however, I will need some information of my own in return. Let us be frank - I do not trust you anymore, and you think I am going to the dark side. Rest assured, I will never join Voldemort._

 _I need information on Voldemort's past - if you can give it to me, I can give you my information. It is on how we can stop him._

 _-Harry Potter_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _You are right in saying that there is a gap between us. I would be delighted to exchange information, however._

 _-Headmaster Dumbledore_

 _PS. I love lemon drops._

Harry sighed as he looked down at the letter one last time, before folding it back up and tucking it into his pocket.

"Lemon Drop." he told the gargoyle.

It slid open and he walked to Dumbledore's office, not bothering to knock since he knew from Narcissa's black book that Dumbledore had a spell allowing him to see whoever was outside his door.

"Ah Harry." Dumbledore welcomed him. "What information did you say you have for me?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He knew that if he gave the old man his information first anything he was given in return would be useless.

"I think I'll get my information first."

Dumbledore heaved a sigh, his blue eyes devoid of any twinkle.

"Very well." he nodded. "To understand Tom Riddle, we will be entering my memories of him as a young boy."

The first memory shocked Harry - the Riddle House, and a young Tom Riddle with a man named Morfinn Gaunt. That ring, it was probably a horcrux. Harry would have to go check it out with the rest of them.

The second memory had to do with an old woman named Hepzibah Smith and the Cup of Hufflepuff. For Harry, the greed in Tom's eyes had been evident.

"Ok." he nodded once the second memory was over. "That was good, solid information."

"What is it that you have to give me?" Dumbledore asked.

"Horcruxes." Harry said bluntly, watching with a little satisfaction as Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock. "Voldemort made horcruxes - we destroyed Slytherin's locket after we found it in Grimmauld Place. That was one. This information you gave me may tell me more. The diary in my second year was a second. We're unsure how many he made."

Dumbledore nodded and dismissed Harry, clearly in his own thoughts.

Harry left, already penning letters in his head. The Gaunt Shack in Little Hangleton had to be visited, and he needed to figure out what Riddle might have done with Hufflepuff's Cup after stealing it off that old lady.

Merlin, this was a mess.

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _I have the information from Dumbledore. First, go to Little Hangleton and find the Gaunt Shack. Lord Voldemort used to be Tom Marvolo Riddle, and his mother was a woman named Merope Gaunt. He had a ring, black stone with a gold band, and he looked like he valued it. Also, I think Hufflepuff's Cup is a horcrux. We're not sure where that is though._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Narcissa found Slughorn. Old Riddle had an obsession with the number seven, so that's how many horcruxes we are going for. Looking at the data you gave us, we think Riddle had an obsession with the founders, so anything of Ravenclaw is a good bet. I don't think he would use Gryffindor - house rivalries were wild back then._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _Luna and Cho both say that the only object they can think of is Ravenclaw's Lost Diadem. We're unsure as to where to find that, but search for that too maybe. Assuming I was an unsuspecting horcrux originally, and Voldemort planned to use my death to make his last horcrux, the diadem, cup, diary, locket, and ring are five. I don't know about the sixth._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We found a black ring with a gold band in the Gaunt House. It was really hard to get through - there were some nasty curses on the house, including a withering curse. Luckily, we used some wards to remove any and all magic in the house. We destroyed the band, which was the horcrux, but the ring stayed intact even through fiendfyre. It only cracked, so we suspect that it is more powerful than we thing._

 _Narcissa is examining it currently with Arabella Zabini._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

Harry yawned as he finished off his book, curled up in his bed. Frankly, this year was going better than expected. Even through constant attacks by Voldemort, and more and more deaths, Harry was getting better and better at duelling. They were also destroying more and more horcruxes, and the trap in the department of mysteries had been set up.

 _Dear Harry Potter,_

 _I have found some books on Parseltongue in the Department you might be interested in. We at the DOM do not share our knowledge readily, but if it will help defeat the Dark Lord then we are willing._

 _May Merlin shine upon you,_

 _Saul Croaker_

 _Dear Mr Croaker_

 _Thank you for the books. They contain some amazing spells from the time of Merlin and Arthur and Albion that will be incredibly useful in the fight. I realize that the DOM does not share knowledge readily, but if you would like I could attempt to give you the knowledge of Parseltongue. Just you, no one else. I found a spell in the book that transfers knowledge and was created by Rowena Ravenclaw._

 _Thank you,_

 _Harry Potter_

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _If you could meet me on December 17 during your Winter Holidays such an exchange would be most amenable._

 _May Merlin shine upon you,_

 _Saul Croaker_

Harry smiled brightly as he packed his bags. He was going back home, to Grimmauld Place. House Hedwig was really split in half - Michael was going home with Carina, but except for Lyra and Draco everyone else in their year was staying back home.

They all were getting really good at the Parseltongue passwords now - Harry taught them words in advance and was beginning to teach some of them smaller vocabulary words like _danger_.

"Ready?" Lyra asked, taking his hand.

He nodded and boarded the train with her, going to their usual compartment. It was already expanded, and Luna was in it with Astoria, Daphne, Ginny, and the Weasley Twins. Draco was still coming with Colin and Dennis.

"So what's the ministry trip for this time?" Astoria asked.

"The head of the DOM gave me some amazing books on Parseltongue magic, and I'm just returning the favor."

"That's where you got the books?" Lyra asked, eyes wide. "From the DOM?"

"What's special about it?" Ginny asked.

"The Department of Mysteries doesn't give out any of its knowledge voluntarily - Harry is an exceptional and rare case." Draco said as he walked in, Colin and Dennis behind him.

"Of Course it is." Fred teased.

"Our dear Harrikins, moving mountains!" George finished.

Harry snickered with the rest of them as the train took off, and they settled down. Harry planned pranks with Fred, George, and Ginny. Lyra and Draco played team Exploding Snap with Colin and Dennis, while Luna, Astoria, and Daphne read books.

The ride was pretty quick for Harry, seeing as how he fell asleep in Lyra's lap halfway through. When they woke up they were at King's Cross Station - they got off like usual, Harry with Hedwig on his shoulder since she refused to get in the cage.

"Harry!" Sirius bellowed, wrapping him in a hug.

"Hi Sirius." Harry grinned.

"Got your stuff?" Sirius asked with a warm smile.

He nodded. "Come on." Sirius told him, taking his hand and side-apparating him to Grimmauld Place.

The others were driving, but Sirius had wanted some time alone with Harry.

"So why did you need me alone?" Harry asked.

"I'm going to teach you apparition." Sirius told him.

Harry gaped, thinking of how useful that could be.

"Awesome." he breathed out.

"Now, I won't be able to teach you today, but I want you to read theory books. Tomorrow we're going to Malfoy Manor - their wards are better for this sort of practice. Lyra and Draco will learn too.

Harry perked up visibly at the thought of seeing Lyra, glaring at Sirius when the man snickered and said, "Whipped."

The rest of the people came back to Grimmauld Place. Harry mostly stayed in his room - ever since duelling club, Ron had gotten unbearable in his "Potter the showoff" rants.

Surprisingly enough, he sounded like Draco when Draco acted like a blood purist. Hermione had calmed down, though she still thought that Harry had to be cheating to get better grades than her, and was a dark wizard.

Dinner was tense, though Harry did his best to ignore it and continued talking to Fred, George, and Ginny.

The next day he woke up and got dressed, ready for apparition. The books said that he should wear loose robes since sometimes magic went wonky and fused the clothing to his body, but to make sure he wore tight underclothes because he could also apparate without his clothes.

He got down the stairs early in the morning and scarfed his breakfast down, Sirius at his side.

"And where do you think you're going?" Molly asked, eyebrow raised.

They turned around to see Tonks, Kingsley, Molly, and most of the Order looking at them with curious expressions. Harry immediately pushed all emotion away and looked at them calmly. "Malfoy Manor."

He noticed that most of them had expressions of disgust at the idea.

"Please." Ron scoffed. "You're just going to learn dark magic."

"What we go to do is none of your business." Sirius replied coolly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"If it's nothing bad, why can't you tell us?" an old man named Diggle challenged.

"Apparition." Harry sneered at him. "Because unlike you, I actually have to fight Voldemort and I want to survive this mess!"

With that, both of them spun around and left, going to the Manor.

"Harry!" Lyra laughed as she embraced him.

Draco snickered in the corner with Sirius while Lucius and Narcissa turned away. They broke apart and every one sobered up, going to the Apparition Room.

"You will have to apparate from this hoop," Lucius pointed to a wooden hoop, "to this hoop." he pointed to another five feet away. "While doing so, deliberate on your destination with determination, as our old apparition teacher said.

"The guy's old." Sirius scoffed. "I'm pretty sure he taught Slughorn how to apparate."

Narcissa sighed. "You must concentrate on your magic, imagine it taking you to the other hoop. You cannot exist where you are anymore- you must think of your destination clearly and be at your destination."

Harry looked at the hoop across from him and imagined himself in the hoop, trying to imitate Sirius' spinning movement when he apparated.

Instead, he fell down. He noticed that Draco had done the same, though Lyra had kept her balance. He stood up and tried again, this time visualizing himself in the hoop. Nothing happened, though he could feel the tug of magic when he spun.

By the end of the day, nothing important and happened - none of them had managed to apparate, though Draco had gotten blurry at one point and Harry had felt a tugging sensation in his gut even stronger.

They went back home exhausted, Harry from apparition attempts and Sirius from laughing every time one of them fell down or did something dumb.

"Sirius." Dumbledore exclaimed when they entered the house. "We were unable to contact you - the Order Meeting had to be postponed."

"Sorry." Sirius said easily, not really apologetic. "Harry and I were busy."

"Yes I heard." Dumbledore's tone was definitely disapproving.

"Look, you don't get to judge us." Harry snapped. "Now I am starving."

"There's food in the kitchen Harry." Molly smiled.

He smiled back and sauntered into the kitchen, grabbing two sandwiches and going up to his room. He was going through the fifth of twelve parseltongue novels. The spells in that were amazing.

Salazar Slytherin was a veritable genius. There were spells that could single out Dark Lords, be keyed to blood signatures. In fact, if Harry managed to get just a vial of Voldemort's blood, there was a whole book on rituals he could do to stop and weaken Voldemort, but he knew none would work because Voldemort had Nagini's venom and his blood in him.

He could totally use these in battle with death eaters though - Voldemort knew Parseltongue, and once Harry did the spell Voldemort could do it too. He may hate the guy, but he was smart.

Soon it was time for his visit with Croaker - he put on a nice pair of deep blue robes with golden lining and a basilisk skin duelling vest underneath.

"Mr Potter." Croaker, well, croaked, as Harry entered.

"Mr Croaker." he replied calmly. "I would like to once again thank you for the Parseltongue books."

"More for the fact that I may be able to speak Parseltongue." Croaker remarked, a happy gleam in his eyes at the idea.

"It won't be easy." Harry cautioned. "You'll have the knowledge of understanding, but you'll have to talk to snakes and decipher words to speak it."

"Understanding is better than nothing." Croaker replied.

"Ok." he nodded, following Croaker into a room clearly lined for magical testing based on the residue and explosive marks. "Ready?"

" _Maxime facultatem potens serpens."_ Harry hissed, watching as an ethereal green light enveloped Croaker.

"Ok." he nodded when it had settled into the man's skin. "Now to put it to test. Serpensortia!"

An adder appeared in front of them, hissing and spitting wildly.

 _What idiot dares to take me from my home?_

"I can understand him." Croaker murmured in awe. "I will need you to take an unbreakable vow not to teach anyone else."

Croaker readily agreed and took the vow, both of them concluding business and Harry taking the floo back home.

"Where were you?" Hermione demanded the moment he flooed in.

He mentally groaned. "None of your business."

"It is!" she screeched. "The Order has been worried sick about you!"

Just as though it was perfect timing, the rest of the Order stampeded in, Sirius sauntering after them all with Fred, George, and Ginny.

"Mr Potter, I would ask where you have been?" Dumbledore demanded.

Snape smirked in the background at the rude gesture Sirius made at Dumbledore's back.

"If you must know, I was in a meeting with Saul Croaker." Harry replied flatly.

"The Head of the Department of Mysteries?" Diggle choked.

"Uh Huh." Harry nodded, satisfied at his dumbfounded expression. "He gave me some really good books on Parseltongue magic, and I was just returning the favor."

"Parseltongue magic is dark!" Hermione immediately exclaimed.

"No it's not." Ginny scoffed. "You just think it's dark because of your bias. It's actually classified grey magic."

"Harry, you had us worried sick!" Molly shrieked. "Just tell us, Harry, where you are going and when next time so we don't spend our time looking for you."

"Ok Mrs. Weasley." Harry agreed, heading up to his room.

* * *

Harry was in his room reading the book when he heard the thunder up the stairs. He shut it and looked up as Sirius barged into the room.

"Attack at Longbottom Manor!" he yelled. "Five minutes till we apparate!"

Harry immediately jumped out of bed and pulled his duelling robes on, adding the basilisk skin vest under it with his wand holster and wand, along with a new creation of Fred and George's - shield gloves. This way, he wouldn't have to worry about people summoning or disarming him - the gloves would stop that.

He ran downstairs to see some of the others getting ready - Tonks had her basilisk skin robes on, Kingsley had his Auror issued dragonhide robes on, and Sirius had his own pair of graphorn duelling robes - the man was rich.

"Sirius, what is Harry doing here?" Dumbledore asked, again disapproving. "Only the Order is going."

"Too bad Dumbledore." Sirius replied pleasantly, masking the disgust he felt.

"I refuse." Dumbledore glared.

"Fine." Sirius replied. "Ready Harry?"

He nodded, and Sirius took his arm and they both apparated out.

The grounds of Longbottom Manor were chaos. The Manor itself was on fire, and he could see lots of dead death eaters around him - from the wards, and from the plants that were attacking.

Sirius and Harry stayed out of the range of the plants and took down death eaters as quick as they could. Before they could advance, more death eaters apparated in, and this time managed to burn down all the plants guarding the house.

"Shit." Sirius hissed, running forward slinging spells.

Harry also leaped in, spells coming from his wand all nonverbally. He didn't play fancy like he did in some duels or challenge himself - he just killed and incapacitated as many death eaters as he could.

He heard pops of apparition behind him and Tonks and Kingsley joined the fight. He continued fighting the death eaters, locked in duel with two at one. Just like his duel with Voldemort last year had been hard, so was this.

The death eaters were not amazing at duelling, but in a life and death duel they were slinging Avada Kedavra's around like candy on Halloween and Harry could not use any wide range spells for fear of hitting his allies.

He finally cut both of them up with Sectumsempra and heard a commotion behind him, to see that the rest of the Order had arrived. He turned back around and saw that some more death eaters were apparating in - he immediately jumped into battle, not giving any warning when he killed three with a bombarda.

He could see the other members of the order sending off stunning spells and the like - he, Sirius, Tonks, and Kingsley were the only ones willing to go a little further. Frankly, death eaters were scum - they didn't need to be spared in his opinion.

He advanced forward, sending off a massive parseltongue water spell aimed at the mansion. Before it could do anything there was a huge groan from the top of the mansion, and it collapsed.

"NO!" he yelled, his water spell going faster, but it was too late.

They hadn't escaped, and he had failed.

Neville. Oh god Neville. No matter how clumsy he had been they had been in the same year, and they had talked lightly in class. Neville had never truly been mad at him for becoming House Hedwig, though he had never supported him either.

The death eaters all popped away the moment the mansion collapsed, leaving Harry and the rest with the remnants of a burnt mansion.

"Longbottom Manor." Sirius said finally, mournfully, and Harry _knew_ that he was imagining how the Longbottom's had fallen, how the line was gone.

The Longbottoms had been a skilled family - they descended from the time of Merlin, and had skills in plants. It was said that the first arbomancer was a Longbottom.

He closed his eyes even as they went home and went to his room, burying himself in the shower. The water was scalding but he didn't care, because Neville was dead. He knew it wasn't his fault, but Neville was still dead because he wasn't faster.

In the privacy of his shower and room, in the dead of night, even while Hedwig flew with the bad news to all of his friends, he let the tears fall down his face.

* * *

Dumbledore sighed in his office, looking at the silvery instrument that had gone dull. Another dead end. He had thought Neville could take Harry's position as the Boy-Who-Lived, but now he was dead.

It seemed he would have to work with Harry - he was already protected from any enchantments Dumbledore could use, because his allies were suspicious of him instead of trusting him.

It seemed he would have to work with Harry, even if he didn't want to- there was no other choice. It was such a pity about the horcrux in the boys head. He was surprised that Harry hadn't had any Voldemort related nightmares, but maybe Voldemort had found and blocked the connection.


	20. Amelia Bones

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

 **Hey Guys! Sorry for the super duper uber long wait, but this girl has school again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and just know that updates will be streaming in way slower than before.**

* * *

Harry sat down at the table in the Great Hall and looked down. There was a somber mood around, for just like last year one of their own was gone. Dead.

The Gryffindor table was in especial grief - Ron was the only Gryffindor left. Dean and Seamus, who had been closer to Neville before, were also really somber.

Harry. Well, Harry felt like had no more grief left to give. Now, just like Cedric's death, there was a gaping hole in him that would slowly start to fill with his determination to take down Voldemort.

The feast ended and he headed back, his movement almost robotic.

"Harry." Lyra murmured, taking his arm before he could enter. "Come wit hem."

She took him to a private area behind a tapestry.

"Harry you can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" he asked, but his voice echoed and sounded hollow.

Cedric. Neville. Remus.

Three people he had failed.

"This!" she shouted suddenly, her silver eye sparking with fury. "You blaming yourself for every damn thing in the war and pushing yourself and training to death! Well guess what Harry? The war doesn't revolve around you! Voldemort is the one hurting and killing them, and just because there's a stupid prophecy about you doesn't mean it's your fault!"

Harry was struck by the fact that she was right. She was. He slumped to the ground, and when she enveloped him in a hug he broke down, sobs muted and eyes dry.

* * *

Harry threw himself into training after that, but not as much as before. He took more breaks, concentrated more on hanging out with his friends and just enjoying life. Blaise continued to teach him chess, and Harry started reading books on duelling strategy too.

The death of Neville and his grandmother had also struck the Wizengamot hard - the Longbottom family had no remaining heirs, and they couldn't just give the seat to anyone because it was tied to the family magics.

Finally, it was decided to remove the seat and create a new one for the Bones family: previously, Amelia Bones only had a seat because she was head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _The cup and diadem are the only ones left. From what we got on Slughorn, Riddle really valued his magical heritage. We also got some information about Wool's Orphanage, and according to the records, he was possessive and liked trophies._

 _We aren't sure where to search next - we were thinking of going through our Gringotts Vaults in case Voldemort gave the Malfoys or someone else associated with the Black Family a horcrux._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _Maybe we should search Hogwarts? We could use the spell some time during summer and see if there is anything here. I know it's a longshot, but since Riddle valued his magical heritage so much he might have hidden something here, the first magical place he ever visited._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We can try for something at Hogwarts with the help of Snape and Flitwick - Dumbledore is going on a one month sabbatical to the furthermost parts of Europe for a trip that involves finding allies. If not, we can talk to Amelia Bones._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

Harry stifled a yawn as he read through his book. It was DADA, and the rest of the class was studying some slicing and dicing hexes.

He was on the seventh parseltongue novels - nonverbal spells that he might be able to use in battle. Unfortunately, he had to _think_ in parseltongue, which would be a problem. He would have to practice that.

It was hard for him to think in Parseltongue- usually he spoke it instinctively and it translated to english in his head.

"Hey." he heard a voice behind him.

He spun around, automatically drawing his wand, but Lyra was just standing there with her curly blonde hair, now reaching mid-back again, in a black skirt and green top.

"Hey Lyra." he commented, putting his wand back where it belonged.

"Do you know what day it is?" she asked.

He paused, thinking for a second. "Saturday." he answered finally.

"It's Hogsmeade." she replied, her voice sharp. "And you're losing yourself in your studies again."

He said nothing, knowing that he was.

"Come with me." she said softer, sitting next to him and taking his hand. "One full day off at Hogsmeade, just you and me."

"But…"

"But what?" she asked. "Harry, you can't sacrifice yourself for others. You deserve time to be happy, even if you have to sacrifice some study hours."

Harry sighed. He knew she was right.

"Ok." he got up, stretching from his meditative pose. "Just give me ten minutes."

After ten minutes he had taken a shower and put on a pair of slacks and a red t-shirt, a pair of black robes slung loosely on top. After that they were on their way to Hogsmeade, sitting in one of the carriages while one of the first sunny days in their cold winter.

"So what do you want to do?" Harry asked Lyra.

"I'd like some butterbeer." Lyra commented idly. "We're still not old enough to have firewhisky, sadly."

Harry laughed, feeling more free than he had in ages. The sharp biting wind against his face felt good, and the constant rub of Lyra's tights against his leg was a reminder that he wasn't alone.

"I think I could use some Honeydukes." he replied.

And that's what they did. They went to Three Broomsticks and got butterbeer, laughing at each other's foam mustaches like they were three. Then Honeydukes, where they tried out all of the new candies and ran out of the store after paying without a care in the world, high on candy.

Harry finally stopped laughing when they reached a bench area, and Lyra sat down.

"I feel amazing." he told her. "This- this was amazing."

She grinned brightly and he leaned over to press their lips together. When they went back to the castle Harry was more relaxed than ever.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _We have been coming through all of the vaults I have access to. Lucius and I pulled a bunch of strings at Gringotts and did a lot of legal work, but we got the Lestrange Vaults in the end. We figured that that is the highest possible vault - we checked all of our vaults but there was nothing, even using the spell. We'll probably go to Gringotts with you during Easter Break._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _This is perfect. I was wondering if Blaise might be able to stay with us for Easter Break - his mom is facing some political troubles with the death eaters recruiting in Italy, so he's not able to go with her like usual. Unfortunately, he already signed the papers saying he would leave Hogwarts._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Of course your friend can stay. Blaise Zabini right? Yeah, that's totally fine. Just hope that the Order doesn't flip its lid._

 _Love,_

 _Sirius_

Harry grinned as he stretched out in the train compartment, Susan's cat Treacle rubbing his black and white furs all over him as the cat slept in his lap.

"So the swamp really worked?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah." Fred laughed loudly. "Mrs. Norris ended up stuck in it and no one could vanish the swamp. When they levitated her out, the mud was still all over her, and it fell on Filch!"

"It's sticky mud we created." George explained. "Swamps, but with some added chemicals Harry introduced to us from the muggle world."

"We're here." Blaise told them, clambering down from his place near the window.

They all took their trunks and got out, Blaise having already learned the Headquarters location. Sirius found them and they all apparated home, Harry quick to take Blaise to his guest room.

"Thanks Harry." Blaise grinned. "Mum can take care of herself, but not both of us, and no matter how much I tell her I can duel just fine she won't put me in danger."

"I don't know that much about your mum." Harry commented. "Tell me about her."

Blaise sat down on the bed, looking up at the star painted ceiling.

"My mum is amazing - super caring and she always gets me what I need. She marries a lot, and only for money, which is why a lot of people call her the Black Widow. She's also part siren, so when she sings its magical. She can convince and seduce people really easily with her voice. She's distant sometimes, but always caring."

"She sounds awesome." Harry commented.

What would his mother have been like?

Would she be caring? Kind? Compassionate? Would she have a love for books? Would she and his dad argue?

"Dinner!" there was a call from downstairs and both boys raced down.

As expected, there was kind of a blowout about Blaise being there.

"He's a Slytherin!" Ron screamed, the usual argument. "And not only that, his mother's that lady who kills her husbands for money!"

"They're accidents." Blaise replied, though he was so monotone everyone could tell he was lying.

"Just calm down." Harry snapped. "He's my friend and he's staying."

Mrs Weasley of course, took it in stride, making an extra plate for Blaise. It also helped that Blaise layered compliment after compliment on her, causing her the blush.

"You're such a charmer you." Harry teased when they were eating.

"What can I say?" Blaise rebutted, looking extremely smug. "My mother taught me how to please a lady."

Hermione rolled her eyes, while Ginny smirked. She and Blaise always had huge arguments that ended with them sweet talking each other. Frankly, they were like the opposite gender version of each other.

The rest of dinner was pretty peaceful, Harry and Tonks in a debate about the merits of the Transylvania and England game coming up next Saturday, and who would win.

Ginny and Blaise were debating the merits of dodging verus shielding with Sirius, while Fred and George were doing some not so legal business transactions with Mundungus Fletcher when their mum wasn't looking.

* * *

Easter Break passed nearly the same way the winter break had - Harry, Draco, and Lyra continued to study apparating, and their animagus forms with Luna. Sirius estimated that they would be ready for their first full transformation by Harry's birthday.

One particularly memorable time Harry had been stuck with wolf ears, Draco with a peacock tail, Luna with Cheshire Cat Strips, and Lyra with three heads.

Sirius had taken a picture of that with the enchanted cameras that Colin, Dennis, and Michael had made for everyone and sent for Christmas to go on their wall back at House Hedwig.

House Hedwig was more of a home at this point - the common room was full of plushy chairs, tables, sofas, and books.

They had an entire wall dedicated to photos they had taken and pictures Dean had drawn of them - small moments like when Cho had been caught by a prank from Fred and George, or the time Carina had been caught singing (she was amazing) when she thought no one was around.

All of their rooms were theirs to keep until they left Hogwarts, and with the help of Dobby, Winky, Twilly, and some other house elves could be personalized to how they liked it. Well, Carina tried to make her room hot pink but the elves wouldn't have it. They seemed to have an unnatural distaste for hot pink, and chose a light creamy shade instead.

The House elves were a huge help - Cho, who wanted to one day become a fashion designer, had taken all of the fabrics Harry bought for them and created matching uniforms for all the house elves. By pushing it off as laundry, the elves stayed happy and in employment.

His duelling was getting better, most definitely, but it was harder and harder to find people who could put up a really good challenge. He refused to go to Dumbledore, and he had long ago analyzed Professor Flitwick's fighting style and learned to best it.

At this point, he was just reading up on old reports from the war, and looking at how Voldemort fought.

The guy didn't pull his punches. He had a lot of power because he could throw dark curse after curse and not be tired, and Harry didn't have that power. He replied on his brains to get him out, and his duelling robes to shield against lighter jinxes.

His wand couldn't be broken now, that was for sure. The Parseltongue books had some things on wand protection, and now his was fireproof and unbreakable.

Soon Easter Break was over, and all of House Hedwig fell into studying for exams with a frenzy. The fifth and seventh years especially, because they had OWLS and NEWTS. Harry was confident in his defense and charms, but for the others he loaded up on books, ignoring his duelling for once because he cared about his exams.

He still wasn't sure what he wanted to do - his career talk was coming up, though the school refused to let him have it with Peeves. His would be with Professor McGonagall, who Harry was rather neutral on - she supported Dumbledore, but never took action against him. She was proud, but disliked the dark magic he used.

He had never used an unforgivable though, and he never would. He wasn't that horrible.

* * *

Harry sat uncomfortably in Professor McGonagall's classroom, Dolores Umbridge smiling like a toad from the corner. She had been watching random student's career paths to make sure that they were "using their full potential."

It was a load of hippogriff-crap. She just wanted to make sure that the really powerful and good students ended up working with or for the ministry.

Harry frankly didn't want to work in the ministry. He already was fighting so much, and being an auror like Seamus wanted to would just mean more fighting. He wanted to teach, really.

He loved the pleasure of devouring books and being able to explain them later to others and teach them the spell.

Daphne wanted to be a researcher, and Blaise was looking into expanding the family business of alcohol creation into the muggle world. Lyra wanted to be an independent researcher in runes and potions, and Draco wanted to be a banker with Gringotts since he was great with numbers. Susan was a political shark so she was going to take her place on the Wizenmagot once of age, and Hannah was aiming for a position in international magical cooperation since she was really good with languages.

Dean wanted to be an artist, since he had already sold one of his pieces of the potions lab to an art exhibit in France that was hidden in the Louvre.

Harry still marvelled sometimes at the places wizards and witches hid.

"Hello Mr Potter." McGonagall greeted him, shaking him out of his thoughts.

He gave her a small smile and sat down stiffly.

"So Mr. Potter." she said calmly and stiffly like always. "What career path are you thinking of pursuing?"

Harry looked at her calmly. "I want to teach." he said.

He couldn't deny the small spark of pride in him that flared up at her short and proud smile before she went back to her usual face.

"What subject?"

"Defense." he said without hesitation.

"Mr Potter." Umbridge spoke up from the corner with her usual cough. "Would your duelling skills not be more useful, er, somewhere else rather than teaching?"

Harry shakes his head, because he doesn't want to fight more than he has to, he's _tired_ of fighting and fighting and fighting.

"I don't want to fight more." he said calmly. "Not unless I have to."

"Very well." McGonagall cleared her throat. "You will need NEWTS in Defense against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, and at least an OWL in History of Magic and Care for Magical Creatures."

Harry nodded. "That sounds good."

"In that case Mr Potter, this discussion can come to an end." she told him.

"Thanks Professor." he nodded before walking out.

* * *

Harry stiffened as he looked at the newspaper.

BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN, it read.

This was it, Voldemort was making his next move and gathering his most loyal of followers. Pettigrew was in Azkaban, really, for his crimes. Wormtail, the murderer of his parents, was free.

The game just got infinitely more dangerous.

The prisoners were nine wizards and one witch, all of them with insolent looks on their faces as they jeered.

 _Antonin Dolohov_ , read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at Harry, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

Harry looked around to Fred and George and he could see that both of them were clenching their fists, Lee attempting to calm them down. Dolohov killed their uncles, the men they were named after. Something inside Harry curdled, bitter and angry and vowing revenge for his friends.

 _Algernon Rookwood_ , said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.

How many people died because of the secrets he leaked? How many people did he kill? That bitter seed in him snarled just a little more.

But Harry's eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch. Her face had leapt out at him the moment he had seen the page. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though he had seen it sleek, thick and shining. She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Like Sirius, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something-perhaps Azkaban-had taken most of her beauty, and Sirius had regained his looks after intensive care at St. Mungos.

Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

He looked around and he could see Draco and Lyra huddling together reading a letter from their parents because _this was their aunt_.

They would have to fight against their aunt. Harry opened the paper and started reading the article more in detail, and he could see that almost everyone else at their table was doing the same. Not Michael and Carina - Cho had taken the paper from them and promised to explain it later since she didn't want them reading about some of the horrors in it.

 _ **The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.**_

 _ **Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.**_

 _ **'We find ourselves, most unfortunately, facing the fact that You-Know-Who now has his most loyal followers at his side.,'said Fudge last night. 'All the aurors but one were slaughtered at the prison. The auror in question, Miss Penny Haywood, escaped using her animagus form, that of a skvader, or a rabbit with the wings of a pheasant, to hide in the rubble of the prison.**_

" _ **They came out of nowhere." Miss Haywood states to reporter Rita Skeeter. "You Know Who, he was at the head, and the battle was really over before it started. He used some sort of cursed fire to murder everyone, and I only survived because I was small enough to hide, and he needed the prison intact to get the prisoners out."**_

 _ **We are doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.**_

The mood in the common room that night was grim. Incredibly grim. Michael and Carina were especially shaken up, because they were only eleven and they had to deal with the fact that they would be targeted for being Harry's friends.

He pretends that he doesn't feel watery eyed at their statements of loyalty, and for the next two days throws himself into training until Lyra drags him out and they sit near the black lake, dipping their feet in and feeding each other strawberries, trying to pretend that the end of the war isn't coming.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _After the escape I claimed the Lestrange Vaults on account of them being criminals, so we have that. We got around to searching them, and the spell identified a horcrux. It's Hufflepuff's Cup Harry, and we destroyed it, so now we have one left._

 _We had a skirmish with the death eaters the other day, and barely managed to subdue them. Three of them escaped, and I know for a fact that crazy Bella was one of the escapees._

 _We interrogated the prisoners before taking them to the ministry, and we think Voldemort made one more horcrux - a live one. They all said that his snake, Nagini, is closer to him than normal. We want to try it out, but we won't know for sure ever._

 _Love,  
Sirius_

 _Dear Sirius,_

 _We should just kill the snake - we'll never know for sure, but better safe than sorry. Hogwarts this summer is a good idea._

 _Love,_

 _Harry_

Harry sat down, eyes closed, as he retreated into his occlumency mindscape. It was a forest, yes, but it wasn't as bright as the first time he had found his mindscape. It was darker, gloomier, but the deeper you got to the middle of the forest the brighter the leaves and memories got.

He watched with nostalgia as he and Ron sat on the high table and ate food with the professors. How silly they were, thinking they could fly the car to school.

House Hedwig's quidditch season had gone well - their team worked together and trained a lot. All of them trusted each other too, so it was no surprise when they took the Quidditch Cup, to all of their euphoria.

They wouldn't make the house cup - Fred and George, with Lee's help, had really ramped up the pranks, and they had lost a lot of points for it, points even Peeves hadn't been able to make up.

OWLS were creeping closer and closer, and people were getting worried. With a level of efficiency to rival the Hogwarts Gossip Train, a black market in items to make you smarter and study better had sprung up, though most of it was absolute bullshit.

Teachers were also laying pressure on them, homework getting harder and longer, with more assigned reading. The week before OWLS started Harry abandoned duelling practice altogether to spend his time studying for his OWLS, memorizing pages of runes and every single type of ant that the cockatrice loved to eat.

The day before the OWLS started the governors showed up, and Lyra's hand clutching tightly at his as the other had a fork dangling loosely in her fingers showed just how shaken up she was.

"Lyra, calm down." he whispered. "We'll be fine."

"Those are the examiners!" she hissed. "Those are the people who will judge my future!"

"And you'll do amazing and fine." he reassured her, and she slowly calmed down, picking up her fork and taking a bite though her grip on his hand never wavered.

There was one small one who was friends with the Malfoys named Griselda Marchbanks, a former Slytherin. Professor Tofty, a former Ravenclaw, is the other really old one. Both looked like they were older than Dumbledore, and that was saying something since the man was ancient.

They all went to bed early that day, and the next morning all the fifth years and seventh years were reading through their charms notes and books while they ate breakfast. Harry was going back over charms he hadn't studied in _ages_ , small fifth year ones that never really had a use in duelling but might show up on the exam.

Finally, finally, breakfast was over and books were put away and they were entering the halls with their quills and ink. Harry had brought his special non-shattering always-pointy self-inking quill that he had checked by Professor McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick to make sure he could use it.

The exam began and Harry flipped the paper over, reading the first question.

 _Give the incantation and wand movement for making an object fly_

Remembering a floating club, the smell of old sucks, and a shattered bathroom he smirked and set to writing, determined to get an O on this exam.

Two hours later the exam was over and the fifth years were going to the lake to relax before studying took priority again, in a small secluded area they had found. Dean and Seamus were taking a detour to the kitchens for some food from the houselves.

After lunch they convened again in the great hall, wands and nothing more in hand. He can feel Lyra twitching beside him, while Draco went the easy route and downed some calming potion. Blaise is muttering in Italian under his breath and Seamus is holding Dean's hand so tightly Harry can see the dark skin pale.

They get called into the hall in alphabetical order, and slowly the members of Harry's group slip away. He gets called in with Parkinson and the Patil Sisters. He takes a deep breath and enters the room, going to his assigned proctor.

It's the old man named Professor Tofty, who looks at him scrutinizingly with black eyes over his pince-nez glasses.

"Mr Potter, yes?" he asked, even though Harry knew that the man already knew who he was.

He nodded calmly, and the exam began. Overall it went well - his studying had paid off. Practical was always the easiest for him, and the color changing charms and levitation charms were easy for him.

Transfiguration was the next day and Harry thought that he could have done better. He did well on the practical, he knew that, vanishing his entire iguana and switching rat's head for the mouse head, but his written had some questions where he didn't know how to provide a full answer.

Herbology was the day after, and he was only bitten by a Fanged Geranium. His practical was again better than his written - he knew that the only two places where he was amazing at written was DADA and Charms. History was the only one where he had no practical to make up for the written, so he had studied extra hard in that field, absolutely poring through history books.

Thursday was DADA, and it was here that Harry knew he would succeed. He had Professor Tofty again, and a training dummy in front of him. Tofty has the list memorized, and spell after spell spewed from his mouth as fast as Harry could throw them, all nonverbal, the dummy decimated at the end, and the hall silent and watching.

Tofty smiled, a small lilt to his mouth that hints at more knowledge and told him, "A Patronus now."

It was symbolic really, all the destruction Harry had caused and for him to conjure up a wolf of pure light. He did, his thunder wolf howling up at the ceiling and leaping for the rafters before disappearing.

"Outstanding job Mr. Potter." Tofty praised, and Harry knows that the word choice is nicely chosen, that he did do well, that he got an Outstanding on his DADA.

The written was amazingly easy after that, because no matter how much Harry struggled in other subjects Defense came as easily as breathing to him.

Runes was on Friday, with COMC in the afternoon. He was pretty sure he got the required E on Runes; some of the lesser known ones had slipped his mind and he had to make do with the rune creation knowledge he had.

COMC also went pretty well, though Harry was bitten by a Bowtruckle. Saturday finally found the exams over, everyone lounging beneath the trees. Lyra had her head in his lap, just like Seamus' was in Dean's, while Luna was weaving a flower crown for Draco to match her own, one with.

"It's over!" Blaise laughed, slightly hysterical undertone but not really.

"I can't believe we're NEWT students." Fred grinned.

"Me neither." George laughed.

"I'm surprised you two sods made it past your OWLS." Lee laughed, yelping when they pelted him with grass.

Astronomy was the last exam on Monday, and Harry, for all his duelling knowledge, sucked at stars. They all looked the same to him. He knew that all the purebloods would ace the exam: it was a part of their heritage. Everyone knew that magic came from the stars, and that when they died they would go back to the stars.

Finally, finally it was all over and the fifth years celebrated with a visit to Hogsmeade. They went back to the great hall for dinner, and to his surprise he got a patronus message in a nundu form. The hall fell silent.

"Harry Potter." Saul Croaker said. "The trap we set up in the Department of Mysteries worked, but I don't know how long we can hold the death eaters. There is going to be a fight, but we have the Lestranges. We can't use any magic without them getting loose. Gather reinforcements."

Immediately Harry shot out of his seat, Lyra and Draco close behind. There was chaos in the Great Hall, though all of them were watching him, and he could see Dumbledore talking to McGonagall and Snape urgently.

"Fifth year and above only." he snapped. "That includes you Luna. I'm sorry."

She nodded calmly, though she desperately wanted to go, and he and his friends ran out. They all pulled on their robes and ran to Snape's office - his floo was open and he was talking rapidly to Amelia Bones.

"Go." he snapped, and they all flooed straight to the department.

"Mr Potter." Croaker greeted him. "The moment we let them out this will be a fight. We only have time to gather reinforcements."

Harry nodded, face set in determination. They walked there, and an array of Aurors were circled around the cell with Amelia Bones.

"I will be going." Croaker told him. "We at the DOM are researchers, not duellers."

He left, and Harry readied his wand.

"Would you like the first spell Madame Bones?" he asked.

She nodded, readying her wand. "For the Longbottoms." she stated, before shooting a cutting curse through the wall. The magical barrier broke, and the fight began.

Harry narrowed in on a random death eater and started shooting cutting curses. Lyra and Draco were next to him from when they duelled in teams and the group worked in sync.

Draco was a defensive dueller, while Harry worked best with numerous silent spells. Lyra preferred to let off few immensely powerful and destructive spells, so while Draco shielded them Harry herded some of the death eaters to a spot, and Lyra used to demon fist to crush them all into the ground.

Fred and George were using dungbombs as distractions to slice through major tendons and disable them, but no matter how hard the group fought they were at a standstill.

Bellatrix Lestrange was fighting like a devil incarnate, Avada Kedavra's going everywhere. They could hardly do anything against her.

Harry pushed as much magic as he could together and summoned a snake of fire to go and bite Lestrange, but she dodged and it burnt her brother-in-law Rabastan to a crisp instead. She cackled and pushed out a wave of water, putting the snake out.

He let out a shockwave directed at her, but she used a wind spell to work through it and sent her own punching hex at him. Most of the impact was absorbed by his robes, but he knew his ribs were bruised.

He sent out his own barrage of spells and this time, instead of shielding, Bellatrix gave him a hideous grin and yanked Bones by the arm in front of her, who even with a shield took the brunt of the damage.

"NO!" he yelled, his head pounding as he saw Bones fall to the ground, one of her arms irreparably mangled.

"Aww, look what you did itty bitty Potter!" Bellatrix cackled.

He hissed in anger, yanking all emotions away and just attacking.

He couldn't remember what happened.

Lyra told him that it was like he had turned to ice, the temperature around his visibly cooling as he advanced on Bellatrix, not giving her an inch of leeway.

He hadn't just killed her. He had obliterated her. He had frozen her and shattered her into a million tiny pieces in his anger.

After she died all the death eaters disappeared, and Harry was left standing alone, many of the Aurors staring at him in fear. He wasn't sure what to feel.

 _This is for you Neville._

* * *

"How many people died?" Harry asks after he is out of St. Mungos.

Lyra sighed from next to him, a slowly healing cut on the top of her forehead the only signal of battle. "Five Aurors died. Amelia Bones lost her wand arm. Cho had a lot of her hair burnt off. But we managed to subdue a lot of the death eaters. Now Bellatrix is dead, but Dolohov and the other Lestranges escaped with Rookwood."

"That's not even a victory." Harry hissed.

"We stopped Bellatrix." Lyra replied. "And killed a lot of minor level death eaters. Frankly, that's more of a win."

"But we didn't get Voldemort."

"And we're not gonna every time."

"How's Cho?"

"Fine. Rocking the pixie cut too."

"How are you?"

"...tired. No matter how much I hate death eaters I still have vague memories of Bella being an actual aunt to me and Draco, caring for us in her own odd way. It hurts to see her so hateful."

Harry didn't know what he can say to that so he stayed silent.

"Do you think we'll survive this?" Lyra asked quietly, tucking her head into the crook of Harry's neck.

He was reminded once again that they were teenagers, that they might not live to twenty at the rate the war was going.

"I don't know." he replied, tightening his grip on her. "But I want to be with you every step of the way."

She looked up at him with a smile and he could see the love in her eyes. They just weren't ready to admit it, not when they could be ripped away from each other so easily.


	21. Author's Note

**Hey guys, I just wanted to apologize for not updating for more than a year. I've been really busy with my freshman year of highschool, ski team, volleyball team, and writing my own original book and getting it published. I promise I'm still working on Aspirations, and that I'll update as soon as possible.**

 **Thanks! For the record, my book is called Like a Butterfly, it's on Amazon, and I would** ** _Love_** **for everyone to check it out!**


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